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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318815">The long way around</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_writes/pseuds/D_writes'>D_writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aromantic Character, Demisexual Character, F/F, First Kiss, Found Family, Helena is the most experienced with sex, I decided to explicitly tag them in the end, Little bit of sex, Or Is It?, Pining, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, a bunch of minor OCs - Freeform, aro!Helena, backstories, but like tasteful, but she has no idea about love, demi!Dinah, that's the whole concept i guess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:08:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_writes/pseuds/D_writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dinah and Helena have different perceptions of what their relationship means. Is it platonic? Is it romantic? Is it sexual? And most of all, does it matter?</p><p>or </p><p>One day, Helena picks up the phone just to tell Dinah a story, and it sort of becomes a habit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>268</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Helena</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In this fic, I wanted to try and explore Helena's past and how it influences her behaviour and understanding of love. I also wanted to switch it up a little and make Helena the one who's had a lot of sex and Dinah the inexperienced one, while still trying to keep them in character. </p><p>Find me on tumblr at das-gay.tumblr.com :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Women liked Helena. In fact, women liked Helena before she realised she liked them back. </p><p>To this day, she’s not quite sure how it started. She remembers being seventeen and kissing a girl in an empty classroom. It was a hot late spring afternoon, the school empty and quiet. Had she forgotten something there? Was she coming back from the library? All she remembers is the bike ride through town, the air feeling hot and sticky, the dust floating inside a sunbeam in the desert corridor. She remembers Giulia sitting on a desk, her legs swinging back and forth, bored and beautiful in a way only teenagers are allowed to be. </p><p>“Sorry, wrong room,” Helena mumbled when she spotted her, then turned on her heels and tried to walk away.</p><p>“Hey,” Giulia called, jumping down from the desk.</p><p>“Mh?”</p><p>Helena didn’t know her personally, but Giulia had a bit of a reputation. She was nineteen and had to repeat a year, which made her one of the oldest students in the school. They said all sorts of things about her. That she had a boyfriend in college, that her parents were divorced, that she smoked behind the church. Helena didn’t listen much to rumours, yet those reached her nonetheless, which meant there were many more going around.</p><p>“You’re into girls, right?” Giulia asked out of the blue.</p><p>It was the first time someone had suggested it and to say that it took Helena by surprise would be an understatement. She stuttered a “What? How… what?” as Giulia walked up to her, pleased with the reaction she got from her. She smiled without kindness, like a cat that’s found a new toy.</p><p>Helena’s first kiss was taken from her on a muggy Sicilian afternoon by a bored girl who tasted like cigarettes and chapstick. It took too long for her to pull back and say “I’m <em> not </em> into girls!” for it to be credible: she had already kissed her back. Giulia raised an eyebrow and slowly went for a second kiss, eyes locked onto hers. Helena leaned in before she could stop herself. “Sure,” Giulia laughed. Helena felt a surge of anger the other mistook for desire. Suddenly there were arms around her neck and a girl on her tiptoes was kissing her. That day, the line between anger and desire became blurred and never quite stopped.</p><p>Helena rode home in a state of mild anxiety and unwanted euphoria. She dropped her bike in the courtyard and ran to her room, earning a suspicious look from her uncle Massimo. She found herself lying face down on her bed, head full of questions. Did she like girls? How did Giulia know? Did everybody know? Why did no one tell her this was an option? Why had she never seen girls kissing? Should she ask someone? Helena didn’t know much about love at the time - she didn’t know much about anything apart from punching and throwing sharp objects onto targets - but she knew the answer to that last question was a solid <em> no </em> . She could <em> not </em> ask anybody. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew on a visceral level that it was wrong for her to like girls.</p><p>---</p><p>Giulia never spoke to her again. The school year finished and she moved to Rome to attend a college she’d never finished. However, she wasn’t the last woman to come onto Helena - quite the opposite. She was eighteen when Carmen approached her at a cafe. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress and bright lipstick, golden bracelets and an engagement ring big enough to immediately grab Helena’s attention.</p><p>She was just over twenty-four but already looked like a thirty-something rich housewife. Maybe it was her pearl earrings, Helena thought, maybe her makeup. Maybe it was the way she stood next to her, took her sunglasses off, and said “Meet me at the theatre at 4pm” like she knew her. Helena raised one eyebrow in confusion, but as soon as she laid eyes on her she the other one followed in awe: the woman was gorgeous and clearly knew it. Carmen gave her a little pleased smile noticing her reaction. Her eyes fell on Helena’s parted lips, then met a pair of wide eyes. “Get yourself a ticket for the movie in room 3,” she added, sliding a banknote on the counter. </p><p>Helena fucked Carmen in the last row of room 3 at the Delfino Theatre in Via dei Martiri 43. It was the first time she had touched a woman’s body <em> like that. </em>Carmen was demanding and directive, Helena was a natural. She felt hands in her hair, a tight grip on her arm, and legs shaking at her touch. She felt both proud and powerless, she thought Carmen beautiful and detestable at the same time. </p><p>Carmen left fifteen minutes before the end of the movie. She offered her a small packet of wet wipes to clean the lipstick from her face and warned her to be careful. “Hope you had fun,” she added, “I sure did.”</p><p>Helena didn’t say anything. She sunk in her seat, rubbing a wipe against her face, thinking fun wasn’t exactly what she had, but it wasn’t too far off. It felt exhilarating, sure. It also felt scary, but she wasn’t willing to admit that. So she told herself that yeah, maybe it was fun after all. </p><p>After Carmen, came the others. It wasn’t exactly often, but there was enough of a pattern for Helena to understand she had been <em> recommended. </em>They were always beautiful, often married. They always approached her when she was alone and invited her to a hidden spot. Sometimes it’d be there and then, against a tree in a backyard during a lunch break. Sometimes it was in the school gym, or in the library restroom, or in a parking lot at night. It was almost never in a bed. </p><p>Helena liked the thrill, the secrecy. She liked the feeling of a woman losing control under her fingers. She liked the furtive looks they sent her way in church, the way they turned to their husbands with a fake smile and patted their arms. Poor fuckers, she thought. At least she wasn’t being deceived.</p><p>---</p><p>Most husbands were either clueless or harmless, and even those who were neither couldn’t do much against an entire family of trained assassins. But there’s always a hothead with more guts than brains, so one day a guy showed up at Salvatore’s house and started screaming that he’d kill her.</p><p>Massimo, who was smoking a cigarette sitting under the patio, lifted his hat just enough to see who the idiot was. He was not from the area, that much was clear, or he would have known better. </p><p>“What did you do this time, picciridda?” he asked patiently. Helena shrugged and feigned an innocence they both knew she didn’t have. </p><p>“I bet she fucked his wife.” Luca, his younger brother, said with an ugly laugh. Helena felt her heart in her throat, but managed to keep a straight face.</p><p>“There’s only one thing a man like that gets so mad about,” Luca continued, theatrically bending his fingers and air quoting: “Honor.”</p><p>Massimo let out a short huff from his nose in place of an actual laugh. The man kept yelling, so Luca just laughed louder and shot his gun in his general direction. The bullet hit a tree twelve feet from the man who, after a short, stunned silence, screamed: “Y’all fucking crazy! I’m gonna call the police!”</p><p>They watched him stomp away and drive a white Porche down the small road that led to the villa. Massimo sighed. He was a man of few words, something that could not be said about Luca.</p><p>“I bet his wife is a hot piece of ass! Look at that car.” He commented. “She must have him wrapped around his finger. He found out, she played innocent, told him it was all your idea.”</p><p>Helena swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed. Luca came closer and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve been there, kid. You may find it hard to believe, but your old man was a real Casanova at your age.” He slapped his chest and gave her a conspiratory wink. “I’m glad to see someone’s keeping the tradition alive!” He laughed again, earning a cold look from his brother. “You gotta be careful, though,” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “Women are powerful, they always get what they want. The more beautiful they are, the more dangerous. And we are weak! We are, dear. We fall in love, we marry them, and that’s when it’s all over. You gotta work, you gotta pay, you gotta buy her jewellery. And what do they do? They look around for someone else to-”</p><p>“Luca...” Massimo called, noticing the obscene gesture he was making.</p><p>“-have fun with. No wonder men have to go to the <em> signorine </em> at the train station.” Helena knew <em> signorine </em>meant young ladies, but was also code for prostitutes. Luca continued, too entertained by himself to stop. “In the end, we’re all the same. The only difference is that men pay for it and women get it for free. That’s why women are superior! Remember: they always get what they want.”</p><p>Helena felt sick to her stomach. She’d never been a romantic, but Luca’s little speech painted such a dire picture, it crushed any budding hope about love she might have had. Much like anything else in her life, it became something to be wary about.</p><p>---</p><p>
  <span>By the time she was 27, Helena had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span> plenty of women. That’s why she felt a little weird when Renee and Harley seem to imply she didn’t have any experience on the matter. Sure, she may have let slip that she’d never been on a date, but that was a thing for people who wanted to get married then cheat on their partner. She wasn’t interested in that. However, she’d never quite corrected them. If they wanted to think she was some kind of virgin, they could. She’d left that part of her back in Sicily, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helena had known plenty of women, but she’d never had friends. It was something she was learning now and, with that, patience. Harley’s scattered mind, jumping from topic to topic and always landing on a terrible, chaotic idea. Renee’s smug condescension. Dinah’s laughter at her anger. Yes, she was learning patience, and the little she had was constantly being tested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all fairness, Dinah’s laughter wasn’t that irritating, but it was the one thing that filled Helena with doubt. Was she overreacting? Or was she not threatening enough? Whenever she tried to sound serious and authoritative, Dinah would just… laugh. It was disarming, and Helena liked to be very much armed against anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Other than that, Dinah was teaching her patience by example. No matter how many times Harley got in trouble, she would always offer her sofa when she needed a place to hide for a few days. She kept handing out money to Cassandra even when she was downright stealing from her pockets anyway. And she kept talking to Helena despite her obvious inability to hold a conversation, until she found a way in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dinah, 5:34 pm “How about this one?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her text was followed by a picture of a purple YBR she found on a sidewalk. Dinah had taken to snapping pictures of random motorbikes, knowing Helena always had some facts about them. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Helena CK, 5:35pm:  “That’s a 125cc, it’s for kids.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Helena CK, 5:35pm:  “Actually my first bike was a YBR. Very forgiving. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I would have killed to have a purple one.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Helena CK, 5:35pm:  “I crashed it against a wall.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dinah, 5:35 pm: “I want to hear that story.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of texting back, Helena decided to call. She didn’t put much thought into it, it’s just that her hands were covered in grease and she needed to check her oil. When she picked up, Dinah sounded surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, killer,” she said. Helena could hear her heels clicking in the background and her breath slightly hitched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was running away from a guy in a Porche,” Helena recounted, holding her phone between her shoulder and her jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> were running away?” Dinah teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was twenty and he was kinda right to be pissed off. Wanted to get into a small alley and took a tight turn a little too fast… bike slid away from me and crashed against someone’s house. Snapped the front brake in two, lost half of the spokes... “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, did you hurt yourself?” Dinah sounded worried even though Helena had clearly survived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a couple of bruises, I was wearing full bike gear. Didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her, had to run through some vineyards to get away from the guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helena heard the sound of Dinah laughter, gently spilling over her voice. It made her want to continue the story, try to get some more of it out of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I’m running in leather padded pants and jacket, right? I’m breathing so fast my helmet is like Milan in November, pure fog. I take it off but I don’t want to throw it away ‘cause it’s like 500 bucks and I’ve already trashed the bike. The guy’s right behind me and he’s not giving up. So I get to the end of the field and make a u-turn, sneaking into the next row. Now, I know the field pretty well. The guy? Not so much, he’s from the city. He follows me at full speed and bam! Runs into a metal wire some asshole had stretched at face level. Falls to the ground like a bag of flour, thought he’d decapitated himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helena could hear Dinah laugh even louder over the sound of the laundromat she was in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, was he alright?” Dinah asked while pushing clothes into a washing machine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was fine, but he got this long red mark across his face for a month. ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poor guy… why was he so mad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helena hesitated for a second, then said: “That’s classified.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Dinah conceded, amused, then added: “Thanks for the story, killer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helena stopped in her tracks and realised what she’d just done. She really had called Dinah just to tell her a story. She’d never done that before, she’d never felt like she was close enough to someone to just pick up the phone and talk about nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I… um, no problem. Anytime,” Helena stuttered, suddenly self-conscious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good to know,” Dinah replied. Helena could almost hear the smile in her voice. She wanted to ask if that meant they were friends now, but it sounded too childish, so she said nothing. She heard a gentle “Bye” at the other end of the line and wished she had an excuse to not say it back. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dinah</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life kept playing weird tricks on Dinah Lance. As much as she tried to mind her own business, she always ended up tangled in some weird situations. Did she have to care about her neighbours’ adopted daughter? No, she didn’t. She didn’t have to beat up some guy to protect Harley Quinn of all people. She did not have to risk her job and her life to call Montoya from a club restroom. </p>
<p>Life kept dragging her into other people’s messes and knocking her out in the process. Had she died in the process, they would have left her on the ground as they did with her mother. </p>
<p>Alas, Dinah had finally understood something about herself: she couldn’t <em>not </em>care. So instead of letting life nudge her into the most dangerous situations out of nowhere, she’d decided she was going to get into them herself - consciously and prepared. Paradoxically, joining the Birds of Prey made her feel more in control of her life. Being a vigilante wasn’t easy, but at least she had pulled herself out of the delusion of a quiet, normal life. </p>
<p>Most of all, she wasn’t alone anymore.</p>
<p>It had been one year and seven months since she’d broken up with Oliver, and since then, she hadn’t managed to rebuild a network of friends. It was just too exhausting. Oliver had always been the charming one. He could walk up to a couple in a bar and start chatting about anything, and before she knew it they were going to double dates and organising road trips. Socially, Oliver had always done the heavy lifting.</p>
<p>It didn’t help that once they split up, all their friends took his side. Well, they didn’t, really, but he was the one who kept in touch with them, while Dinah was too busy looking for a flat she could afford and a job she was qualified for. She had almost given up on Gotham when Roman Sionis decided to take her under his wing. </p>
<p>Roman was used to owning things and Dinah became one of them. Things don’t have friends, they don’t have lives of their own. Things don’t betray. It took her almost two years and a thirteen-year-old girl in danger to remember she wasn’t a thing after all.</p>
<p>By then, the damage was done: she’d isolated herself from anyone who had ever cared about her. </p>
<h3>
  <strong> --- </strong>
</h3>
<p>Dinah would be lying if she said joining the Birds of Prey wasn’t a way to force herself to be around people. Somehow, she’d managed to find two women who were even more lonely than her and possibly less equipped to admit it. Renee, who’s top priority had always been her job, was now unemployed. Not only that, but she had burnt every single bridge there was to burn, including her ex-girlfriend. And Helena, well... Helena made Dinah’s loneliness pale in comparison to hers. There wasn’t a single person loyal to the Bertinellis left in town. They had either betrayed them or ended up dead. Not to mention Helena had been far from Gotham for almost two decades.</p>
<p>So yes, Helena Bertinelli understood loneliness, but Dinah wasn’t quite sure she minded it. She seemed comfortable in it. It was being around people that drove her up the wall, so Dinah wasn’t sure she wanted friends, but hey! it’s not like Dinah had a lot of choices. </p>
<p>Dinah knew how to deal with people who had a temper and Helena was far from the worst. She was easily set off, but not unpredictable like Sionis, nor malicious like Szasz. She just constantly brimmed with anger and sometimes it spilt over, that was it. It was almost endearing. </p>
<p>Helena wasn’t the worst, and Dinah was determined to make new friends. </p>
<h3>
  <strong> --- </strong>
</h3>
<p>It took her a while to crack the code, but eventually, she figured it out. Helena wasn’t used to being around people, so she focussed on things she liked, and tapping into that could override the social awkwardness she carried with her otherwise. </p>
<p>Weapons were an easy bet. Helena was mostly interested in the mechanics: she could talk about different trigger mechanisms and barrel textures for hours. Needless to say, modern crossbows remained her favourites. Dinah realised she did not mind listening to her talking about how the relationship between bolt length and bow tension, the wondrous world of arrow tip shapes, or whether counterweights were needed at all. </p>
<p>Part of the reason was that Helena had a storytelling style that Dinah found particularly entertaining. </p>
<p>“Where did you get that from?” Dinah asked her once.</p>
<p>“Get what?”</p>
<p>“The way you tell stories.”</p>
<p>Helena thought about it and concluded it was Luca’s fault.</p>
<p>“I guess it’s from one of my uncles… he just won’t shut up. He must’ve rubbed off me.”</p>
<p>“Are you close to him?”</p>
<p>“To Luca? No, he’s a piece of shit. But he can be really funny, he’s got this thing where you just can’t <em>not </em>listen to him. It’s his gift. He always says he could sell you the underwear you’re already wearing.”</p>
<p>Dinah laughed at the expression and Helena gave her a half-smile back. </p>
<p>“What other stuff do they say?”</p>
<p>Helena shrugged, trying to find something not too offensive Luca would say. “Anywhere my hat lands, there’s a woman who wants me,” Helena said, trying to lower the pitch of her voice and mimicking the motion of someone throwing a hat.</p>
<p>“Oh wow,” Dinah chuckled, impressed at the confidence of this uncle Luca, “what a charmer.”</p>
<p>“I told you, he’s not a nice guy,” Helena shrugged.</p>
<p>“Thanks for coming, by the way,” Dinah changed the topic, “I’ve been wanting to try this place for a while, they make exotic fruit cakes.”</p>
<p>“No problem,” Helena said stoically, noticing the place was packed. Dinah knew she didn’t like crowds and felt a little guilty about dragging her there. </p>
<p>“Those guys are leaving, why don’t you take the table and I go order?” Dinah placed her hand on Helena’s wrist, noticing her closed fist that promptly opened up at the touch. </p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>Dinah watched her stand next to the table that was about to be free and noticed the people hurrying to leave it once they spotted her tall, broody figure. Knowing it was completely unintentional made her chuckle. Helena sat stiffly while a waiter came to clean up around her. He smiled at her. She clenched her jaw and gave him a serious nod of approval. Dinah wondered if she got that from a different uncle. </p>
<p>“This one is yuzu cheesecake and this is, um... atemoya red velvet cake,” Dinah explained when she came back, reading the receipt. “Not really sure what they are.”</p>
<p>Helena pulled out her phone and did a quick search.</p>
<p>“Yuzu is a type of Asian citrus fruit and atemoya is a hybrid between... chirimoya and pinha?” Helena explained, showing a picture of a green lumpy fruit, as big as a fist. Dinah nodded but felt it didn’t clear up much.</p>
<p>“Let’s try them,” she said with a shrug.</p>
<p>“Which one’s mine?” Helena asked.</p>
<p>“Oh, I thought we could share? I want to try both.” Dinah watched Helena nod casually. For a second she thought she would mind, but she looked unbothered.</p>
<p>“Ladies,” the waiter came back with two coffees and a smile. Dinah watched Helena stiffen once again and brush her fingers against the butter knife.</p>
<p>“Are you always this alert?” Dinah said offhandedly once the waiter left. She had said that just to have a conversation, but Helena quickly pulled her hand away with a displeased expression on her face.</p>
<p>“So are you, if you noticed,” she mumbled. </p>
<p>Dinah understood what bothered Helena was that she hadn’t been as stealthy as she had wished. </p>
<p>“I’m starting to know you, that’s all,” Dinah said with a cheeky smile, then took a bite of the cheesecake. “Oh, this is good! You should try it,” she added, phishing the small plate towards Helena. </p>
<h3>
  <strong> --- </strong>
</h3>
<p>Helena had gone through life feeling like a flipper ball. Going full speed, hitting walls and falling back. It didn’t matter that the Sicilian countryside was pretty uneventful: she would find a way to cause trouble. That’s how she kept herself from thinking.</p>
<p>School was dull and left her restless. As much as her training kept her mind busy, it was never quite enough. </p>
<p>It began with climbing. Massimo had to come with the big ladder more than once to drag her down from a tree or the stable rooftop. “How do you always find a way to get up but not to get down?” he would ask. Helena would quickly climb down the ladder and run away without a thank you, leaving him sighing and scratching his head.</p>
<p>Then came racing. Salvatore had an old motocross bike and she would beg him to let her ride it in the backyard. He got her a new helmet and boots and taught her the basics. He regretfully noticed she was pretty good at it, so when she turned sixteen they agreed to get her her own bike. It only took a few months for her to start joining some local road racing nights. </p>
<p>Fucking other people’s wives was just another distraction, yet it was the only one that left her feeling dirty. Maybe it was the way Luca would say things like: “Remember, if you don’t eat her out you’re only giving half the service,” out of the blue. He seemed to imply they were the same, he and her, and it left her with a sour taste in her mouth. </p>
<p>Luca was unpleasant and strong as a bull, which was one of the reasons Helena had become such a lethal assassin over the years. Her desire to finally be able to knock him out played quite a role in her training. When she finally managed, they knew she was ready to go back to Gotham. And in Gotham she was, eating yuzu cheesecake in a hipster cafe with the Black Canary. How life had changed.</p>
<p>“What do you think?” Dinah asked expectantly.</p>
<p>Helena had never been too experimental with food. According to her uncles, Italian food was excellent and unchangeable, no need to go to the other side of the world to try some fancy citrus fruit. But she wasn’t <em>against</em> trying new food. She just needed a little push, perhaps, and was grateful that Dinah took the time to nudge her in all different directions.</p>
<p>“It’s pretty good,” Helena replied, nodding. </p>
<p>“Try this one,” Dinah swapped their plates, holding her fork in her mouth. </p>
<p>For a moment, Helena felt herself observing the scene from afar. What was she doing there, wasting time trying different types of cakes? What did she have in common with those mocassin-wearing men and their low-cut pastel v-necks, with those girls in wide-brimmed hats and statement jewellery? What kind of conversations was going on around her and could she ever find them interesting? </p>
<p>Then, a voice in her head asked: “do you have anything better to do?” and she had to admit that no, she didn’t, and if it weren’t for Dinah she wouldn’t really know what to do with herself most of the time. All Helena knew was violence, but without the drive for revenge, it was getting boring. She wasn’t sure why Dinah took the time to invite her to street food stalls and second-hand shops, but it was a welcome change.</p>
<p>“Hello?” Dinah waved a hand in front of her eyes, smiling wide as Helena got startled.</p>
<p>“Sorry, zoned out,” she said, digging her fork into the red cake and taking a large bite. </p>
<p>It was delicious. Sweet and moist, with a smooth, buttery fruit puree instead of icing. Her eyes went wide when her tongue got hit with the unfamiliar taste and Dinah laughed, making her wonder just how ridiculous she looked.  </p>
<p>“It’s so good,” she admitted. Her mouth was still half-full and a red crumb flew out of her mouth. “Shit,” she let out, hopelessly trying to catch it with a hand, and dropping her fork in the process. “Fuck.”</p>
<p>Dinah seemed very amused by it, and when the waiter came to bring a clean fork, she was still giggling.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The broken record</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They say it takes twenty-one days to form a new habit. It took four months for Helena to realise picking up the phone to tell Dinah a random story had become one. Sometimes, Dinah would call her and ask for an anecdote, sometimes she’d text a topic and wait for Helena to call her instead. Helena was surprised by two things: first of all, her life had been more eventful than she had previously realised. Secondly, she was looking forward to talking to Dinah. It was a welcomed distraction from the otherwise dull days when they weren’t on the street fighting. It made life a little more bearable.</p>
<p>So when her phone rang on a Thursday afternoon and she saw Dinah’s name flashing from the lock screen, she didn’t make much of it. </p>
<p>“Hey” she greeted. </p>
<p>“Tell me a story?” Dinah said as usual, but there was something different in her voice. It was low and raspy as if she’d been crying.</p>
<p>“Are you ok?” Helena checked.</p>
<p>“I just… please. Tell me a story.” Dinah asked again. She tried to keep her voice steady, but a sniff gave her away. Helena wasn’t sure what to do, so she did what she was told. </p>
<p>“Have I ever told you about the time I almost lost an eye to bird disinfectant?”</p>
<p>“No,” Dinah replied with a wet laugh.</p>
<p>“So as you know by now, my uncle Luca is a fucking moron. As such, he used to keep a bunch of canaries in cages at the back of the house. God knows why. Of course, those poor tiny birds have to eat, drink, sleep and shit in 25 square centimetres their entire life, so if you want to keep them alive, you have to clean their cages with disinfectant. You follow me?”</p>
<p>Helena didn’t often check if Dinah was listening, because she always was. She just wanted to hear how she sounded, and the almost breathless “yes” that came from her told Helena she was trying not to cry. Almost without thinking, Helena started walking down the block.</p>
<p>“So I’m twelve and I love climbing. I would climb on anything. Trees, walls, streetlights, you name it. Next to the cages, Luca had built a bunch of shelves. This is important, because he sucks at building stuff. I see the shelves and all I think is: I’m climbing those babies. Hop hop hop, I’m up to the highest shelf, where he kept all the stuff I was not supposed to reach. Of course, the support gives in and I fall on my butt, which would be fine if the entire shelf hadn’t followed me down. Now the disinfectant is a powder Luca put in some old container, you know how old people do? Like, they use empty water bottles to store homemade alcohol and shit?”</p>
<p>“Not really,” Dinah admitted. Her voices sounded clearer.</p>
<p>“Old people do that, they never throw anything away. Anyway, the container has no lid, so the powder gets on my face, in my mouth, in my eyes, everywhere. Salvatore comes immediately and screams “Spit! Spit! Spit!” like I’m a dog eating a rubber band, gets me to the garden hose and rinses my face. Anyway, long story short I wore an eyepatch for three months and Luca gave away all his birds.”</p>
<p>Dinah let out an unconvinced laugh that left Helena disappointed. Maybe it wasn’t a good story.</p>
<p>“Hey, I’m like… two blocks from your place, do you want me to come over?” </p>
<p>As Helena said it, she realised she had been walking towards Dinah’s apartment. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. She’d been at Dinah’s place a number of times, dropping off some second-hand furniture or helping out with a clogged sink. That wasn’t the unusual part. But it’d always been Dinah asking for help, it was never Helena offering. And this time, she wasn’t even sure if she could do anything to help. But she knew she was sad, and that she would have done anything to make her not sad, so maybe if she went to Dinah’s place they could brainstorm some solutions. </p>
<p>“Would you?” Dinah asked quietly.</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure,” Helena confirmed, trying to sound chippy. It was so out of character, this time Dinah laughed a bit more genuinely, and Helena didn’t care that she sounded ridiculous. All she could notice is how her chest felt lighter knowing Dinah felt a little bit better, even if just for a moment. “I’ll be there in ten.”</p>
<p>Helena leapt to Dinah’s place and got there in five. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Dinah said, leaning against the door as she opened it. </p>
<p>“What happened?” Helena asked as she stepped in, but before the answer came a hug. Dinah's hands landed on her padded bike jacket with a thud, her face pressed against the zip.</p>
<p>“Ok, ok, wait a minute,” Helena gently pushed her away, then quickly took off her jacket and unceremoniously dropped it on the floor. Helena cleared her throat, arms stretched along her sides. On anyone else, the gesture would’ve looked quite discouraging, but Dinah knew it was as much of an invitation she was going to get from Helena. She still hesitated for a moment, so Helena, eyes to the ground, explained: “The hoodie is softer.”</p>
<p>Dinah felt lucky. Helena wasn’t quite equipped to comfort anybody, but she was trying. And if she didn’t know how to hug back, she would at least make it the least uncomfortable experience. She was thoughtful in the only way she knew, and that was enough for Dinah. Helena cared. </p>
<p>Dinah buried her face against her shoulder and cried unrestrainedly for three minutes and twenty-five seconds. Helena stared at the clock on the wall as Dinah’s hands held onto the fabric of her jumper, and made sure her feet were solidly planted on the ground to hold both of them upright. She even brought a hand to her back and patted gently. </p>
<p>When the crying was over, there was an unspoken question on Helena’s face which Dinah knew she should answer.</p>
<p>“I broke a record,” she explained.</p>
<p>“Like a Guinness record?” Helena asked, confused and potentially impressed. Dinah huffed through her nose and shook her head.</p>
<p>“No, a vinyl record. My mother recorded a studio album when she was young, I listen to it when I miss her. And I broke it.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Helena understood loss and she understood holding onto objects that belonged to someone who’s gone. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Dinah nodded and shrugged, trying to convince both that it had happened, and there was nothing she could do, and she should get over it. </p>
<p>“Why did you call me?” Helena asked, with an emphasis on ‘me’ - meaning that surely there would be someone better equipped to deal with the situation. </p>
<p>“I always call you when I’m anxious,” Dinah replied, as if it were the most obvious thing.</p>
<p>“You do?”</p>
<p>“Your stories help me calm down, they distract me. Haven’t had an anxiety attack in months,” Dinah smiled through the tears that were still lingering and bumped her fist against Helena’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Helena stopped for a moment to think about all the times she told Dinah about the most mundane things that happened in her life. She never talked about the <em> thing,  </em> the one event that defined her entire existence. She talked about the small stuff, things she wouldn’t otherwise think about. It had helped her find herself outside revenge. Past all the violence and the blood, there was a kid who grew up in Sicily, climbed trees, hated one of her uncles, played with dogs. All those details had faded to the background until she had to dig for them to share them with Dinah, and to think that it had helped her as much and Helena made her feel proud, warm, and <em> necessary </em>. </p>
<p>“Oh,” is all she said, but Dinah spotted a slanted, shy smile.</p>
<p>“I hope you don’t think I’m just… using you, you know. I like listening to you. I don’t just call when I’m feeling anxious.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine, I wasn’t… I’m glad I could help.”</p>
<p>Helena didn’t have words to explain the joy spreading inside her at the thought that Dinah had chosen to call her, <em> her,  </em>and not someone else. That Dinah thought her good enough to comfort her. </p>
<p>Dinah grabbed the vinyl sleeve and showed it to Helena. The headshot of a woman sporting a short afro and big sunglasses took up most of the frame, with bold, yellow typography on a brown background. The corners were worn off as if it had been handled too many times. There was an indent in the middle.</p>
<p>“I stepped on it,” Dinah explained. Helena could hear anger and frustration in her voice. She remembered something Massimo used to tell her.</p>
<p>
  <em> Cose che succedono ai vivi. </em>
</p>
<p>“Things that happen to those who are alive,” she translated.</p>
<p>“What?” Dinah asked, confused.</p>
<p>“Only dead people make no mistakes,” she rephrased, realising her initial rendition was a little clunky. She had never quite believed it when her uncle had said it to her, she had always been as unforgiving towards herself as she was towards anybody else. Yet, faced with the idea of Dinah beating herself up over something she did unintentionally, she started to think forgiveness may be the way to go.</p>
<p>Dinah was used to Helena’s badly translated aphorisms by then, but they never tired her. She thought of them as small treasures you can only come across by accident. They were unexpected and delightful treats, and she always cherished them. </p>
<p>Most of all, Dinah knew how foreign the concept of forgiveness was to Helena. Things that bore little to no meaning in someone else’s mouth always felt more significant when they came from her. And Dinah realised she wanted to be there for those small steps forward, for the progress Helena was making in becoming softer. She realised Helena was caring, and selfless, and beautiful. That she’d become the favourite part of her day. And she realised that she’d been knowing these things for a while.</p>
<p>The silence grew loaded between them, until Helena raised her eyebrow just a little and curled her lips on one side, as to say: <em> What are we doing?  </em></p>
<p>They were still close, closer than Helena would be comfortable with anyone else, and Dinah knew that - she knew just how many exceptions Helena made for her. That had to mean something, right? </p>
<p>That’s why she didn’t say anything in return and just leaned in, heart pounding out of her chest, and placed a small, tentative kiss on her lips. It felt like the most natural thing. They had grown so close, become so important in each other’s life, they protected and cared for each other in a way that surely bled out of the realm of friendship, Dinah told herself. </p>
<p>She’d never been more disastrously wrong.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Qui pro quo.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How do you know someone’s become important in your life? Is there a line on the ground they cross over one day, moving from optional to essential? How many hours of exposure do people need to finally make it to the rank of friends, or best friends even? Helena didn’t quite know, but she felt that at some point Dinah got there. Sometimes, Helena found herself looking at her fondly, basking in the feeling of calmness her presence gave her.</p><p>That’s why when Dinah leaned over and gently pressed their lips together, it felt like betrayal.</p><p>Memories hidden in the deepest parts of herself came flooding back in. A library restroom. <em>You gotta be careful.</em> The last row of a small theatre. <em>That’s why women are superior.</em> An empty classroom. <em>They always get what they want.</em></p><p>Helena froze for a moment. A familiar mix of anger and desire bubbled up and took over. Her hand, driven by an old instinct, found its way to the back of Dinah’s neck and pulled her closer. She deepened their kiss before she could think if kissing Dinah was what she wanted. She pushed her against the wall with just enough aggression, just how she knew women liked. She found Dinah’s belt and pulled it towards her, then quickly started undoing it.</p><p>“Wait, Helena, what the <em>fuck</em>.”</p><p>Dinah pushed a forearm against her chest, freeing herself from her grip. Helena stumbled back, angry and confused. The look on Dinah’s face subdued the anger and amped up her confusion. She looked scared.</p><p>“What was that?” Dinah asked, flat against the wall like a cornered prey, her breaths fast and shallow.</p><p>“Isn’t... that what you want?” Helena asked.</p><p>“I don’t… no. Not like that.”</p><p>Dinah averted her gaze as if she couldn’t bear to look at her. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach.</p><p>“I don’t... understand.” Helena balled up her fists in frustration and watched Dinah flinch at the gesture.</p><p>“I think you should leave,” Dinah said. Her eyes were locked on the floor. She tried to keep her voice as firm as she could, but she could hear it shake.</p><p>Helena turned on her heels, picked up her jacket and left without a word. Dinah crouched down, for no better reason than she felt she couldn’t stand anymore. For the second time that day, she cried for something she’d lost.</p><p>---</p><p>Life was… fine. It was. She went food shopping, she trained daily, she rode her bike. She even went to a newly opened bakery and got herself a fancy doughnut. Life went on, but it wasn’t the same. Dinah had stopped texting her and Helena, well… she’d stopped too. She didn’t know what to say. She barely knew what had happened.</p><p><em>It’s not the same,</em> Helena thought as she wandered in a record shop and flicked through some covers. She didn’t know any of those artists, she didn’t even know the genres and Dinah wasn’t there to patiently explain them to her. There was no one getting excited about a rare find, no one rambling about that time David Bowie did a private show in town, no one delicately running their fingers over the sleeves with deference. Helena stood in the middle of the shop, looked around for a minute, then left.</p><p>She finished her coffee and felt a trace of bitterness in her last sip, then realised she never actually drank her latte right till the end. She always got carried away talking to Dinah. The drink would get cold and she’d thrown away her cup with an inch of liquid still in it.</p><p>Life was not fine. It was miserable.</p><p>She was going through the motions without joy. Even training felt hollow. How did she do it before all that? Life before Dinah hadn’t seemed so bad, except for a deeply scarring childhood trauma and a violent undercurrent in everything she did, but still. Days hadn’t felt so long, so pointless.</p><p>“Care to explain what’s going on?” Renee said after a small pop tongue that roughly meant: ‘I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt but don’t fucking try me kid’. Both the Huntress and the Black Canary had gone MIA, which was pretty fucking inconvenient but also worrying. Renee Montoya didn’t like to worry about people.</p><p>Helena took a deep breath, as if instead of talking she was about to deep dive.</p><p>“Something happened with Dinah,” she said vaguely. She saw a glimpse of hope in Renee’s eyes, half a smile maybe, before she went back to her grumpy self.</p><p>“You guys finally dating?”</p><p>“What? No!” Helena replied with a grimace. Renee raised a hand to say: “my bad”.</p><p>“I mean, she kissed me,” Helena continued. Renee was officially confused. What could have possibly gone wrong? The two women were clearly made for each other, anyone with eyes could see it. Bet she also knew nothing was straightforward with the Huntress. She tipped her chin at Helena, encouraging her to continue.</p><p>“At first I was upset because I thought… I thought she was different, you know? But then I was like ok, if that’s what she wants, let’s go for it. It’s not like she’s not the most beautiful woman on Earth, after all. But then she changed her mind, like, immediately, and told me to leave.”</p><p>Renee’s frown was deep enough to hold a quarter, had Helena placed one between her eyebrows.</p><p>“Ok, let’s reel it back. Give me some context. What happened before she kissed you?”</p><p>“She was feeling down because she accidentally broke her mom’s vinyl record. So she called me to take her mind off it and I ended up at her place. She hugged me, like, super tight and cried a lot. I didn’t know what to do but it seemed like just standing there was ok. Then she just... kissed me.”</p><p>“And you thought…?”</p><p>“I thought she wanted to have sex. Believe me, I was confused too!”</p><p>“Wait, wait, hold on a minute. What kind of leap… why did you think she’d want to fuck right away?”</p><p>Helena opened her mouth to say something, but froze for a second, then said: “What else would she want?” She felt so frustrated. Why did everybody else seem to be clued in some type of secret social rulebook she didn’t have?</p><p>“Helena, for God’s sake! Dinah kissed you in a vulnerable moment and all you could think about was fucking her?”</p><p>“No!” Helena almost screamed. “I was <em>not</em> thinking about it! I thought that’s what <em>she</em> wanted.”</p><p>Renee pinched the bridge of her nose and considered pouring some whiskey in her coffee.</p><p>“Helena,” Renee repeated as if saying her name could help her find the patience she needed, “I know you’re a little clueless, it’s ok, you’ve got other qualities, but you must have realised Dinah’s love with you by now.”</p><p>“No,” Helena said after a long pause. It wasn’t an answer as much as a denial. “That’s not possible.”</p><p>Renee gave her yet another condescending look above the rim of her mug but said nothing.</p><p>“We are friends!” Helena protested, “Why would she want to ruin that?”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s what she wants.”</p><p>Helena pouted and frowned enough to get on Renee’s nerves. The ex-cop flattened her hands against the table and took a deep breath.</p><p>“Ok, let me explain this to you. When Dinah kissed you, she was trying to tell you she likes you as, you know, more than friends, and she probably thought that you were just waiting for an opening to have sex with her. She may even think that’s what you wanted all along, that you played the nice guy just to get in her pants.”</p><p>Helena’s mouth dropped open. “I would never do that!” Helena said, outraged.</p><p>“Well, you gotta tell her, kid.”</p><p>---</p><p>“Hey, doll! Why the long face?”</p><p>Harley poked Dinah’s arm like a child pokes a dead fish with a stick.</p><p>“What do you want?” Dinah said without the usual irritation in her voice, which worried Harley. They had a little game going on: Harley would tease her, Dinah would clap back, then they’d talk about Cass. Harley would make their adventures sound much more dangerous than they actually were and watch Dinah’s eye grow wide with worry and anger. Finally, Harley would rectify her story and laugh at Dinah’s annoyance. It was their thing. Surely Dinah didn’t mind.</p><p>“Alright-y, you look positively miserable! What’s up?” Harley said, plopping on the barstool next to her. They were on a rooftop terrace, the whole of Gotham unravelling in front of their eyes. The landscape had been grey and dull during the day, but the sunset was showering it in golden orange.</p><p>“None of your business,” she mumbled.</p><p>“Of course it’s my business,” Harley argued, “you’re my friend!”</p><p>“Not your friend.”</p><p>“Esteemed colleague.”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Co-parent.”</p><p>“Harley, please leave me alone.” Dinah’s voice was feeble, almost breaking.</p><p>“Looks like you’ve been alone for a while,” Harley pointed out, looking at the cigarette butts on the ashtray, all marked with Dinah’s dark lipstick. It was weird, Harley being so serious and genuinely worried. Dinah wondered how sad she looked. How lost and, let’s face it, heartbroken.</p><p>“Why do you care?” Dinah scoffed unconvincing, sipping her rum and coke.</p><p>“It’s not fun if you don’t play with me,” Harley explained, turning her head to the side. Dinah thought she looked a bit like an owl.</p><p>It’d been almost two weeks. Dinah had been trying to function as well as she could. There were upsides to the situation. Her set on Friday went really well - she felt every single word she sang and the audience appreciated it. They tipped nicely. She went home and put the money in a jar she had secretly labelled “trip with Helena” in her head, but now she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Maybe a hair change. Maybe she’d take her car for a checkup before it could fall apart on the highway.</p><p>“Health, career or heart?” Harley probed, shuffling an imaginary card deck like one of those tarot readers on TV.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Your problem. What’s it about?”</p><p>She hadn’t spoken to anyone about it. She might as well tell Harley. Not her first choice, but, once again, she didn’t have a better one.</p><p>“Heart,” she admitted, dryly.</p><p>“Go on,” Harley straightened her back and placed her hands on the table, giving her full attention. Dinah knew how rare of an event that was.</p><p>“I kissed Helena and she, um… she got aggressive.”</p><p>“She screamed at you?” Harley asked. It wouldn’t be too surprising. Helena did yell at people a lot.</p><p>“No, she- uff, s-she kinda tried to-” her eyes we filling with tears, “she thought it was an invitation to have sex.” She finally said.</p><p>“Oh,” Harley was suddenly very serious, “babe, did she… force you to-”</p><p>“No - God, no! As soon as I told her to stop, she did. It just… I thought we had something. We got so close and I… you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Dinah moved a hand in the air as to swat a thought away.</p><p>“You wanted a relationship and she just wanted sex,” Harley summarised.</p><p>“I guess,” Dinah shrugged, “and she made it sound like it was my fault.”</p><p>“And how did that make you feel?” Harley said as she had trained to do back in college. For a moment, Dinah considered flipping her off. But Harley was just trying to be nice and Dinah needed to talk about it.</p><p>“Angry. Misunderstood.” Dinah could feel a lump in her throat as she said it. “Disappointed.”</p><p>“What made you angry?” Harley insisted.</p><p>“That she couldn’t see I…” Dinah’s eyes were filled with tears. She couldn’t quite talk anymore.</p><p>“That you love her,” Harley said, plainly. Dinah nodded and felt a tear dropping from her eyelashes. She did love her. It was scary and almost unreasonable how much she’d grown to love Helena in less than a year. Dinah didn’t know when it’d happened. It sort of snuck up on her, until one day she looked at Helena trying to catch a crumb of red velvet cake falling from her mouth and thought: this is it. This is the one.</p><p>And now… she wasn’t sure how to feel.</p><p>“God, this is pathetic,” she snuffled. She dried that single tear with her ring finger and tried to pull herself together. “We weren’t even dating or anything.”</p><p>“It’s not, bumblebee. It’s ok to grieve, even things that haven’t happened.”</p><p>Dinah couldn’t tell if Harley was just playing a part, but she said what she needed to hear, so it didn’t matter. She may as well keep going.</p><p>“The weirdest thing is that she knew what she was doing,” Dinah continued, “like she’d done it a thousand times. I’ve only seen her that confident when she fights or on her bike. It’s like there’s this whole part of her I don’t know… I mean, we’ve always assumed she was a virgin, right?”</p><p>“Huntress got moves?” Harley asked with wide, sparkly eyes.</p><p>“Not the point, Harley!” Dinah scolded her, but with a good-natured intonation in her voice. It was nice of her to diffuse the tension a little. Dinah could use some humour. “Also, I’ve never… there was this girl I had a crush on in high school, but I’ve never been with a woman. It’s kind of a big deal for me and...”</p><p>“...and she went straight to business.” Harley finished the sentence for her and Dinah nodded thoughtfully.</p><p>“It sounds like you two need to talk,” Harley decided. She brought a hand to her chin and frowned solemnly, “iron things out, or maybe get closure. What would be a good outcome for you?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“What do you want? With Huntress. Do you want her out of your life, do you want to stay friends…”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Dinah admitted, “I mean, I miss her.”</p><p>Harley let out a short hum, then remained in respectful silence while Dinah processed her feelings, which was surprisingly thoughtful. Dinah looked at the light reflecting on Gotham’s building getting colder, the sky losing its orange hue and turning into a pinkish light blue. It’d get chilli soon, she thought. By the time the sun had disappeared behind the skyline, she’d made up her mind.</p><p>“I…” she started, but Harley was gone. “Thank you, I guess,” she said to know one.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Rebuilding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These were originally two separate chapters but decide to post them together, so I don't actually know how many chapters this fic will have in total...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Helena, 13:45 “YES!” <br/>
</em>
  <em> Helena, 13:45 “Please.”  </em>
</p><p>Helena’s reply made her smile. It came exactly eleven seconds after she had texted her: “Hey can we talk?” Dinah tried not to get her hopes up: after all, she had misread signals before. </p><p>
  <em> Dinah, 13:47 “I’ll come to yours if that’s ok. 3 pm?”<br/>
Helena, 13:47 “Sure.”  </em>
</p><p>Helena didn’t risk sending more than that. She wasn’t sure where they stood, how Dinah felt about the whole thing. She sat at her table, nervously tapping her knuckles on the wood. She briefly considered tidying up her flat, but there wasn’t a single thing out of place. She thought about going out and buying some snacks, maybe a cake, but by then the clock marked 2:14 pm and she felt it would be too rushed. So she just kept bouncing her leg, running her nails on the irregular surface of her tabletop. It was varnished solid pine, more expensive than she cared for. That and the thick metal frame made it almost impossible to move around. It had come with the apartment, but it hadn’t stopped Dinah from teasing her about her industrial-chic pretentious hipster table. </p><p>The doorbell rang.</p><p>She found Dinah standing outside her door with her hands in her back pockets.</p><p>“Hey.” </p><p>“Hey…” </p><p>Helena moved to the side to let Dinah come in. They stood in front of each other for a moment.</p><p>“So… how have you been?” Dinah asked. She wasn’t quite sure how to start, she regretted not planning for it. </p><p>Helena shrugged her shoulders. </p><p>Dinah nodded. “Yeah, me too.”</p><p>“Want to sit?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>They sat at the table, where Helena had set a couple of glasses and a jar of iced water. “Industrial-chic,” Dinah mumbled to herself, but Helena caught it and they shared a tentative smile. It eased the awkwardness between them a bit. </p><p>“About what happened-” “I think we should-” They both started talking at the same time, then both let out a short laugh.</p><p>“You go,” Helena decided.</p><p>Dinah wrapped her hands around the empty glass and took a deep breath.</p><p>“I’m angry with you. Because when I kissed you, you assumed I was looking for sex. Or maybe that’s what you wanted all along. Which has happened to me in the past. People get the wrong idea when they see the fishnets. I thought you were different. I thought you knew me. I thought - I don’t know, I thought we had something.” </p><p>Helena nodded in silence.</p><p>“You don’t have anything to say?” Dinah asked.</p><p>“You’re right, I thought you wanted sex,” Helena admitted after a long pause, “because that’s what anybody has ever wanted from me.” Dinah’s frown was an invitation to explain herself further, so she continued. “When I was eighteen, a woman approached me and invited me to the local theatre. She was older than me and engaged to some guy. She was stunning. It was a mid-week afternoon, the theatre was empty, they were screening an old Fellini movie. She guided me to the last row and as soon as the lights went off, she kissed me. She said that she knew what women like me were looking for and she was willing to give it to me. I had no idea what she was talking about or what she meant with “people like me”, but then she lifted her skirt, pulled down her panties, and… well, you can imagine the rest. To this day I have no idea what the movie is about.”</p><p>Dinah huffed through her nose, impressed at how Helena managed to imply she fucked a woman for two hours straight without actually saying it. Seeing Dinah relaxing a bit encouraged Helena to pick up the pace of her narration and soon enough she started adding the little details she knew made her laugh.</p><p>“So that was the first time, and I thought “uh, odd” but also “damn!” It was <em> pretty </em>  hot. She leaves the theatre before the end of the movie. Reapplies her bright red lipstick and hands me a wet wipe, cause my face must look like a fucking crime scene at this point. She tells me I’m really good at it and, I quote: “a natural”, which I get  <em> super </em> cocky about, and that she had friends that would be more than happy to get some too.”</p><p>“Wait, wait, wait,” Dinah stops her, half intrigued and half horrified, “she was a lesbian? Who was married to a guy? And had other married lesbian friends?”</p><p>“Unclear. All I know is that a week later, another woman stops me after church and hands me a note with a time and a place. Now, I’m eighteen, ok? I’m <em> horny.  </em>And I just got a taste,” Dinah finally laughed, “so of course I’m there, bang on time. My nails are cut and clean, I’m wearing my uncle’s perfume. And get this: she was a teacher at my middle school.”</p><p>“No way! Was she <em>your </em>teacher?”</p><p>“No, God, that’d be weird… but I’d seen her around. She was in her thirties but dressed like an old lady. And she talked <em> dirty.  </em>I guess being around kids all day meant she was holding a lot of stuff in.”</p><p>“Stop it!”</p><p>“It’s the truth! And then, I don’t know, word got out. They just… kept coming. At the beginning it was fun, but then I started to feel I didn’t have a say in it, that I couldn’t say no. It was kinda weird... and I was pissed off that literally anybody could tell I liked girls. They knew before I knew, that’s fucked up, right? I mean, they weren’t wrong, but still.”</p><p>Dinah held her head between her hands and shook it, incredulous. She had many questions, and opinions too, but all she could say was: “I missed your stories.” </p><p>Helena stopped for a moment and cherished the small confession. She had missed telling them.</p><p>“But for real, that<em> is </em>fucked up,” Dinah added.</p><p>“Wanna know what’s even more fucked up? I think they were coming to me because doing it with a woman is <em>not really</em> cheating. It doesn’t count. I actually think most of them were straight.”</p><p>“That’s… damn,” Dinah said, puffing her cheeks. Then, after connecting the dots, she added: “but that’s not what I wanted from you - with you. You must know that.”</p><p>“Well, the other option was that you wanted a relationship and that would’ve been even worse.”</p><p>Dinah slow-blinked and let out an: “Ouch.” </p><p>“Wait, that’s not what I meant.” God, she was not making things better, was she? “Look, I’ve seen how things go. People get together, they get engaged, they get married, then <em> everything </em> goes to shit. They start hating each other, they cheat and I… I don’t want that for us.”</p><p>In a twisted, ironic way, it was flattering, Dinah thought. Friendship preservation and all that. But it didn’t make it any less painful. </p><p>“You’re awfully rational about this,” Dinah said after a long pause.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I know it’s a change, a risk. But it’s a risk I’d be willing to take because… fuck, I have feelings for you,” she finally admitted, despite the lingering shame she’d been feeling for the past two weeks, “and it’s pretty clear you don’t.”</p><p>Helena tapped her fist on the tabletop a few times. This was supposed to be the part where she said it wasn’t true, that she did have feelings for her, that she’d always had, etcetera. She’d seen movies, and if they were in one, this would be the final climax. But the truth was that she had no idea what Dinah even meant by feelings<em> .  </em></p><p>“I care about you,” she said, hoping it would help clear up if that was what these <em> feelings </em> were about, “a lot. More than I’ve ever cared for anyone. I like spending time with you, and I think you’re-”</p><p>“Stop,” Dinah pleaded, “this… is not helping.” She forced a smile and pushed through what she needed to say. “It’s ok, I get it. It’s not like you can make yourself fall in love with me. I just- I’m gonna need some time, ok?”</p><p>“Ok,” Helena replied. She didn’t quite understand, but she didn’t need to. “Whatever you need.”</p><p>There was a sadness at the pit of her stomach. She knew she’d hurt Dinah, she could read it all over her face, and there was nothing she could do about it. Helena didn’t like to feel powerless. </p><p>“I’m gonna go.”</p><p>There was something in the way she said those words that made Helena understand she’d be gone for a while. She wished she could put an arrow through <em> something </em> to fix the whole thing. Instead, she stood up and escorted her to the door. </p><p>“I’m sorry. I could’ve handled it better.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Dinah nodded, turning the thought in her mind and concluding that yes, that had been Helena’s mistake, mostly. “Things will go back to the way they were,” she reassured, “you’re my best friend.”</p><p>“I am?” Helena blurted out, perhaps more excitedly than what was appropriate for the situation. </p><p>“Dork,” Dinah said, fondly, and felt her heart ache at that fondness. <em> God, I need to leave, </em>  she thought. She put her hands in her back pockets and, after taking a deep breath, she just said: “See you around.”</p>
<hr/><p>There wasn’t really a way to avoid each other for too long. They were working together. Dinah cursed herself a thousand times for forgetting that small detail. Renee didn’t give them time to be weird around each other and they were both grateful for it. </p><p>“I know you two have stuff going on, but we need to focus. These guys don’t play,” she’d said, and their sense of duty (and a lingering fear of the short woman’s rage they both were unwilling to admit) had overridden their awkwardness. </p><p>They had fought side by side with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Helena had found comfort in the familiarity of it all, and Dinah… well, Dinah had kicked harder and higher than she’d ever done before. She had almost wished they were cornered and outnumbered, so she could use her canary cry. She craved the release, the violence of it. The numbness that followed. But she hadn’t needed to, and at the end of the fight, Helena had given her a little proud thumbs up that felt like a bolt planted in her chest. </p><p>Perhaps the most infuriating thing was how considerate Helena had decided to be. With the clumsiness of someone doing something for the first time, she’d asked Dinah if she wanted to get lunch. When Dinah declined she smiled without condescension, in a way that meant: <em> I’ll wait till you’re ready </em>. It felt safe in a way Dinah had never known before, and she knew then she’d found a lifelong friendship.</p><p>As with any of her goals, Helena was methodic and disciplined, and there was something completely endearing in the fact that she’d decided having Dinah in her life, in whatever measure she’d be allowed to, was her next one.</p><p>Habits die hard, and the lack of Helena in her life had become incredibly dull. Heartbreak can only last so long before daily life gets in the way. Dinah realised pretty soon that if she vaguely yearned what they’d never had, she absolutely longed for what they had had. She missed their trips to the record store, Helena’s face when she tasted wasabi for the first time, her refusal to buy anything she’d considered overpriced even though she was a literal millionaire. </p><p>She just missed her friend.</p>
<hr/><p>Helena tried very hard to hide her excitement the first time Dinah invited her out for coffee and failed. </p><p>“Sure, yeah, cool. Do you have a place in mind? I mean there’s that new Portuguese bakery three blocks from my place that makes filled croissants and custard tarts… but it’s fine if you want to go somewhere else.”</p><p>Dinah smiled at the other end of the line. She checked her heart for signs of betrayal: all good. She could do this. If anything, there was a childish joy in her chest, the simmering excitement for things that have been wanted for a long time.</p><p>And so they met, ordered a pastel de nata and a croissant misto, and Helena explained that misto just means <em> mixed </em> but it always stands for ham and cheese when it comes to Portuguese food, and Dinah listened, and it felt like nothing had changed. If there was a light tug on her heart each time Helena smiled, Dinah could manage to ignore it. </p><p>That’s when Dinah started letting her guard down again.</p>
<hr/><p>For her birthday, Dinah had picked a club she had worked at as a bartender in her early 20s. The owner was a middle-aged woman named Susan but for some reason, people called her Scarlett. Maybe it was because her hair was dyed red, Helena thought, or maybe it was the dress, also red. She kept an empty cigarette holder and constantly twisted it between her fingers as she spoke. She greeted Dinah in a fashion that Helena could only describe as theatrical, giving her air kisses and calling her <em> darling </em> every other word. </p><p>“And what do we have here?” she said giving her and the two women with her a collective once over. </p><p>Dinah introduced them one by one. </p><p>“This is Renee.” </p><p>Renee offered a firm, unwelcoming handshake, then the two women had a short staring contest at the end of which they somehow decided they respected each other. </p><p>“Helena.” </p><p>Helena waved stiffly from a distance, feeling Scarlett’s eyes on her. The woman whispered something into Dinah’s ear, which made her feel strangely scrutinised. </p><p>“And-” </p><p>“Hi! I’m Harley! Can I just say I<em> love </em>your hair,” Harley said excitedly. </p><p>“Why thank you, dear,” Scarlett said with a slight movement of her shoulder. She sure knew how to take a compliment. “So many flavours, one is spoilt for choice,” she commented before escorting them at their table.</p><p>There was a bottle of champagne in a cooler that an absolutely <em> ripped  </em>shirtless waiter poured for them as soon as they sat down. Renee and Helena were unimpressed, Harley was ecstatic. Dinah appreciated the thought and benevolently rolled her eyes at her former boss. Soon enough, there were tequila shots on their table and beer chasers to go with them.</p><p>“Happy birthday, doll!” Harley exclaimed, promptly downing two shots.</p><p>“Hey!” Renee protested once she realised Harley had stolen hers.</p><p>“Damn right,” Dinah replied, drinking her tequila and Helena’s.</p><p>“That was mine...”</p><p>“Thanks, buddy,” Dinah said, softly slapping Helena’s arm with the back of her hand. “I like your shirt, very shiny. It’s a good look,” she commented, pointing at the purple silk shirt she was wearing. Helena mumbled a “thank you” that got overcast by the dancefloor music and Renee shouting “Hey, young man! Four- no, six shots of tequila.” Dinah laughed at the ex-cop fake irritation.</p><p>It was her birthday. And for once, she had friends to celebrate it. As questionable as their circumstances were, with all the beating up and straight-up killing involved, the three women were her friends, friends she had found by herself and had managed to keep. For a moment, Dinah considered whether the bar she was setting for herself was a little too low, then two more shots appeared in front of her and she decided it wasn’t worth mulling over it. It was her birthday and she was going to have fun.</p><p>It was nice, being around people she could have an unfiltered conversation with. “Hey, do you remember that huge guy Huntress kicked in the mouth?” was not something she could share with just anybody, and only Harley could reply, “uh, yeah, I found one of his teeth stuck under my boots!” so even if a former convict with questionable ethics and terrible taste in men wouldn’t be her first choice, she was having a good time.</p><p>She watched Helena nod wistfully at that memory. The shirt truly was a good look, unbuttoned just enough to show the black vest underneath. It looked so smooth and glossy, she found herself running a finger on the fabric of the sleeve. Helena let her, barely noticing, so Dinah kept playing mindlessly with it.</p><p>“Come dance with me,” she screamed into Helena’s ear, leaning closer. The grimace on her face told her that she yelled a little too loud and it made her laugh harder than it should have. She leaned away and felt her balance was a little off. “Oh, I’m drunk,” she realised as she stood up, gesturing to Helena to follow her. </p><p>“I can’t dance!” Helena yelled back. Dinah rolled her eyes and bowed closer to reply something more convincing, but she misjudged the distance between them and ended up softly headbutting her while slurring: “Come on, killer.”</p><p>“I’ll dance!” Harley decided, jumping up from her chair with surprising dexterity. She grabbed Dinah’s hand and dragged her away, earning an enthusiastic “Wooo!” as they shimmied their way to the dancefloor.</p><p>Helena looked to her left to maybe try and have a conversation with Renee, but to her surprise, she found that the woman was nowhere in sight. She skimmed the crowd and sure enough, she was arguing (flirting?) with none other than Miss Scarlett, who was sipping from a Martini glass. She shrugged and resigned herself to wait it out at the table. Dinah deserved to have fun. She watched her from afar, noticing that even drunk, she was a good dancer. Great even. Helena knew Dinah was beautiful but God, seeing her dance was an entirely different experience. The way she swung her hips and moved her hands was hypnotizing. Helena imagined running her palm on the curve of her waist, feeling her move under her touch. She pictured her lips on the soft skin of her neck, of her stomach, she almost heard the sound she’d have her make. She felt Dinah’s fingers in her hair, her thighs pressing around her wrist. She flinched.</p><p>It’d been so long since she had touched a woman, It’d been even longer since she’d felt <em> desire </em>. She thought it was a thing of the past, a hormonal change she’d already gone through. Maybe the tequila was getting into her system. She hadn’t drunk as much as Dinah, but she could feel her head buzzing and it was taking increasingly more effort to keep her eyes in focus. </p><p>She blinked a couple of times to clear her head. When she looked back to the dancefloor, Dinah was dancing with a tall guy in a suit. Her arms were around his neck and his on her hips. He had a dopey smile on his face and looked just as drunk as she was. Dinah took his tie and pulled him gently, he dropped his head back, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. </p><p>Harley was a few feet away, kneeling on the floor and letting a group of girls pour colourful cocktails in her mouth. A bachelorette party, Helena deducted. The future bride had some salt in her palm and had Harley lick it off it, then poured a shot of tequila in her mouth and finally pushed a wedge of lime between her lips. Harley sucked it then flipped it with her tongue, offering it back. The bride took it from her lips with hers among cheers from all the other women. </p><p>Helena huffed, amused, and took a sip from her beer. Dinah was now a little further, almost nested in the man’s arms. He towered over her, keeping eye contact and leaning closer with every beat. His hands moved lower and she dragged them back up to her waist. She twirled out of his grip. He stepped closer again.</p><p>Helena kept an eye on the scene, noticing Dinah getting increasingly uncomfortable. She knew she could look after herself, but a dance floor fight wouldn’t be the right way to end a birthday night. Or would it? Well, if there was going to be one, Helena wanted to be involved. So she finished her beer with one last swig and squeezed past a couple of people to stand in Dinah’s general proximity, just in case she needed a hand. </p><p>“You came!” Dinah immediately latched onto her and kissed her on the cheek. She wrapped an arm around her neck and whispered: “Get me out of this,” in her ear. Helena nodded and hinted at walking up to the guy, but Dinah placed a hand on her chest and shook her head with a pout.</p><p>“No punching. Just stay here.”</p><p>Helena looked at her a little confused. If she wasn’t supposed to beat the guy up, what could she do? The answer became pretty clear when Dinah started dancing against her, in a way that made her previous interaction with the man look almost innocent. She turned, her back flush against Helena. She slowly got low then up again. Helena watched him puff in disappointment when he understood he’d been replaced. Dinah spun back into Helena’s arms and asked: “Is he gone?” </p><p>“Yeah” Helena replied, instinctively placing her hands on her hips, following her movements. </p><p>“Good.” </p><p>A thin sheen of sweat made Dinah’s skin glisten under the strobe lights. Helena felt hands running up her arms and warm fingers on her neck. She could feel the bass in her stomach, pushing rhythmically, inviting her body to bounce to the beat. “So you can dance,” Dinah teased with a smile. Helena rolled her eyes. What was she supposed to do? Stand in the middle of the dance floor like an idiot? Dinah pulled their bodies closer, trying to guide Helena through some moves. </p><p>A spike of heat ran through Helena’s body. Dinah was close, so close, and so damn hot.<em>  It would be so easy, </em>  Helena thought,  <em> it would feel so good </em> . In an attempt to ground herself, she tightened her grip around Dinah’s waist, trying to push these new thoughts out of the way, but it was too late. The look in her eyes gave her away. Dinah bit her lower lip and slowed down, ignoring the beat. <em>  Look away </em>, Helena told herself.</p><p>She couldn’t. </p><p>Dinah tasted her before she actually kissed her. This time, there was no hesitation. It wasn’t a soft, doubtful peck anymore. It was deep and deliberate, the kind of kiss that leads to a whole different type of night. And God had Helena missed that.</p><p>“Let’s get out of here,” she said, pulling Dinah away from the dancefloor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Leave a comment or say hi at das-gay.tumblr.com ^_^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Nothing is as it seems</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dinah woke up to the sound of someone honking in the street. The sun was coming in through the open blinds, bathing the entire room in a harsh, unforgiving light. She groaned, feeling a pounding headache coming up. Her mouth was dry and she could just tell her breath was deadly. She checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and read 11:45 am right before realising that wasn’t her alarm clock, nor her nightstand. </p><p>She felt the weight of an arm on her waist and a sound of light snoring right behind her. </p><p>“Fuck” she whispered. She slowly turned to look behind her back and saw Helena lying on her side, mouth half open and sound asleep. Her hair created a dark pool around her head, with loose strands falling messily over her face. </p><p>Dinah remembered getting into a taxi, opening Helena’s silk shirt, running her palm over her abs. Then her memories became scattered. She remembered hot, wet kisses against a door. Falling onto a bed. A hand on her back. She looked under the sheet and found she was wearing her bra and panties. She didn’t remember trying to get dressed again. Maybe she’d tried to leave, that sounded like something she’d do. Maybe she could still try to do that now.</p><p>“Mmmh,” Helena let out. Dinah froze, realising it’d be impossible to leave the bed without waking her up. Before she could decide what to do, she felt Helena’s hand flat on her stomach and her body being pulled closer. Helena shifted just enough to press her chest against her back and let out a contented sigh.</p><p>It felt good, Dinah thought, feeling the warmth of her body against hers. So good. And wrong. Part of her wanted to wake Helena up, to apologise. Part of her wanted to savour that feeling for as long as possible, knowing it couldn’t last. But most of her just wanted to bolt out of the window. An odd restlessness started to prickle under her skin. The more she tried to lie still, the more her body refused to. One of her legs twitched, an arm started shaking.</p><p>“Hey,” Helena called sleepily.</p><p>Dinah closed her eyes and cursed herself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t right. What had she done? It was going to be so messy.</p><p>“Everything ok?” Helena mumbled, feeling her tense under her hand.</p><p>Dinah turned to lie on her back, which was not the greatest idea, because Helena immediately snuggled up to her, pushing her nose against her neck. She was still half asleep and painfully cute.</p><p>“Helena, did we... um, have sex last night?” she brought herself to ask.</p><p>“You don’t remember?” Helena slurred, her frown deep enough Dinah could feel it against her skin.</p><p>“No?” </p><p>Great, so she finally had sex with a woman, and not just any woman, no sir, her best friend on whom she had a massive crush, and she couldn’t remember anything about it. She’d fucked up a perfectly good friendship and-</p><p>“We did not have sex.”</p><p>“We… didn’t?”</p><p>“Uh-uh,” Helena said shaking her head, then, barely managing to hold back a cocky smile, she added, “trust me, you’d remember it.”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Dinah blurted out with a laugh that betrayed all her relief. Helena felt her body shake under her and it made her chuckle too.“Thank God,” Dinah let out, “I really thought… I mean, we were about to, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, but you were too drunk.”</p><p>“Did I just fall asleep?” Dinah asked, a little embarrassed.</p><p>Helena rolled on her back and stretched her arms, realising sleeping was not an option anymore. </p><p>“No, I meant you were - how does Harley put it? - too drunk to consent.” </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Helena pushed the sheet away and rolled out of bed. She was only wearing boxers and, even though she quickly put a t-shirt on, Dinah felt her cheeks catch fire. “You don’t remember taking my shirt off either?” Helena asked, noticing her look away. Dinah buried her face in her hands. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, I was wasted.”</p><p>“Happens,” Helena shrugged. It reminded Dinah just how many times that exact thing had happened to Helena before. How many women came onto her and how mundane it must all seem to her. It wasn’t quite the same earth-shattering experience she was having.</p><p>She sat in bed and listened to the faint sound of Helena peeing, the flush, the electric toothbrush. She heard her spitting in the sink and rinsing her mouth a couple of times. It felt… normal. She got too drunk, did something stupid, her best friend looked after her. </p><p>She got out of bed and picked up her clothes from the ground.</p><p>“Were you not drunk?” Dinah asked through the door, putting her pants back on.</p><p>“Not nearly as much as you,” Helena replied while washing her face.</p><p>Dinah slipped her top back on and knocked at the door. Helena opened while patting a towel on her cheek.</p><p>“Thank you,” Dinah said, and she meant it. </p><p>Helena smiled and stepped out. “Bathroom is all yours. I’ll make coffee,” she said, patting her on the back on the way out. </p><p>---</p><p>As Dinah walked to the kitchen, she regretted getting up at all. Her body felt heavy, her head hurt, her thoughts were looping slowly around the event of the previous night. She plopped onto a kitchen stool and accepted the coffee Helena offered. She watched her make some eggs and bacon in silence, head propped on a hand, trying to hold herself upright.</p><p>“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Helena said, placing a plate in front of her, “but you look like shit.” </p><p>Dinah shrugged, not having any argument against the allegation. “Happy birthday to me,” she said defeatedly.</p><p>“Did you at least have a good time last night?” </p><p>Dinah stabbed her eggs with a fork. </p><p>“I mean, yeah, It was a pretty good night until…” she paused for a moment, “actually it was pretty good right until the end,” she admitted. </p><p>Then, Helena did something unexpected. She put her cutlery down and pointed finger guns at her. <em>Finger guns. </em>How had she caught feelings for such a dork? </p><p>“You’re so fucking smug, I hate you,” she said shaking her head, but Helena spotted a small smile.</p><p>“You love it,” Helena argued.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s the problem.”</p><p>It came out a little more earnest than she’d like, but Helena did the finger guns thing again and Dinah almost threw her mug at her.</p><p>Something became clear to Dinah: Helena had no idea how much unrequited feelings could hurt. Had she known, she wouldn’t joke about it. In a way, it was better. Helena blissful ignorance was a much-needed antidote to the awkwardness between them. She was just doing her best to go back to normal, which was exactly what Dinah wanted too. </p><p>“Got any plans for today?” Helena asked.</p><p>“Uff… no, I’m just going to drag myself home, watch some stupid movie, order pizza… take a painkiller or twenty. You?”</p><p>“No plans,” Helena shrugged, checking her phone. “Hey, did you know Montoya went home with your ex-boss?”</p><p>“No way!”</p><p>“Sure did. And Harley fucked the maid of honour.”</p><p>“Wait, did they both leave before us? On my birthday?”</p><p>“No, Harley is texting me about it and she is demanding updates. She probably texted you too.”</p><p>Dinah shut her eyes and moved her hand in the air, unwilling to deal with it. The idea of looking at a bright screen alone made her headache worse.</p><p>“We can watch movies and eat pizza here if you want,” Helena said, trying to sound casual. They hadn’t done that so long. They both had no plans. That’s what friends did. “Of course if you prefer to be alone, I understand,” she added.</p><p>“No, no, let’s do it,” Dinah said before she even considered whether it was a good idea or not. “It’s been a while.”</p><p>---</p><p>They picked a mid-90s movie and ate ice cream while waiting for the pizza to arrive. It wasn’t too bad, Dinah thought. She took a shower, the painkillers kicked in. She changed into a loose pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt, stopping for a moment to notice almost all of Helena’s clothes were new. When she’d moved to the states, she hadn’t carried much with her. Dinah’s home t-shirts had at least a hole or two. Some of them were Oliver’s and their neck had been worn out by his beard. But everything in Helena’s apartment was less than a year old. It felt temporary. </p><p>“Do you ever think about leaving Gotham?” Dinah asked, eyes locked onto the screen.</p><p>They were sitting in bed, watching a 52’’ TV that, like the table, came with the apartment. Helena had put the blinds down and the room felt like their own small cinema. </p><p>“Sometimes,” she said, “not sure where I would go, but I’m also not sure about what’s here for me.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t go back to Sicily?”</p><p>“God, no. I don’t know what I like the least: my uncle Luca, the fact everybody is up in everybody’s business or the lingering homophobia.”</p><p>“Is it that bad?”</p><p>“Let’s put it this way: once - I was fifteen I think - someone asked my uncle Luca if he wanted to donate to the local LGBT charity. Do you know what he replied?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“If you buy gasoline to set them on fire, I’ll give you a hundred euros<em>. </em> ”</p><p>“Jesus Christ!”</p><p>“Of course he said he was joking, and not everyone is like that but… those are the people I would go back to, so no, thanks. ”</p><p>They were interrupted by the doorbell. She stood up to get the pizza and left Dinah wondering just how lonely Helena had felt her entire life. The violence she grew up with wasn’t just physical. She’d been used by women, she’d been insulted by the people who were supposed to look after her. No wonder she’d latched onto her, Renee and even Harley… </p><p>Helena sat back in bed and gave a box to Dinah, then, as usual, they swapped a couple of slices from one box to the other.</p><p>“Come closer,” Helena instructed, trying not to drop oil on the sheets. Dinah scooted next to her and placed the boxes side by side. Once the trading was over, she didn’t move back. They ate a few slices then put the boxes on the ground. Without thinking too much, Dinah laid her head on Helena’s shoulder, and Helena pressed her cheek against her head for a moment, almost to confirm it was ok. Then, before lifting her head again, Helena placed a small kiss on her temple. Neither of them mentioned it.</p><p>---</p><p>“Happy birthday, honey!” </p><p>Dinah smiled through her hangover hearing the voice on the phone.</p><p>“Thanks, auntie.”</p><p><em> Auntie? </em>  Helena thought, her head perking up.  <em> That’s new.  </em>When her eyes met Dinah’s, she spotted a flash of guilt, but quickly decided it was none of her business. Nevertheless, she stored the new information. Dinah got out of bed and pointed to the door, signalling she was leaving the room. </p><p>“Are you doing anything special today?” the voice continued.</p><p>Dinah rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid anymore.”</p><p>“Well, you didn’t come over for your birthday this year, I’m just checking it was worth it.”</p><p>“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”</p><p>“Of course! Is it working?” </p><p>Dinah chuckled. “Yeah.”</p><p>Aunt Josephine laughed. She had a booming, contagious laugh that never failed to cheer Dinah up.</p><p>“I went out last night. Today I’m just watching a movie and nursing a hangover at Helena’s.”</p><p>“Mh-mh. And will you be getting your ass down here anytime soon? I ain’t bringing your gift over there.” Aunt Josephine wasn’t a big fan of big cities in general, but Gotham made top of the list of places she wouldn’t set foot in. </p><p>“Maybe…”</p><p>“Uh-uh, no maybes. It’s been too long.”</p><p>“You’re right,” Dinah sighed, “How about next weekend?”</p><p>“That’s what I want to hear. Are you gonna bring your friend?”</p><p>Dinah frowned. She’d never brought friends over there, only Oliver. And why did she say friend in that weird way?</p><p>“My friend?”</p><p>“That Helena you keep talking about. And by the way, you know we love you, right?”</p><p>Well, that was a weird thing to say.</p><p>“Why would I bring Helena?”</p><p>“Look, if you’re not ready, that’s ok. You take your time. But I mean, honey, I haven’t heard you talk about someone that much in years, you clearly spend a lot of time together, including your birthday… Your aunt wasn’t born yesterday.”</p><p>“It’s not like that.”</p><p>“Sure, of course, I’m just saying: we would love to meet her.”</p><p>“Hey, sweetpea,” her uncle’s voice sounded a little far, “Happy birthday!”</p><p>“Thanks, uncle Rob.” </p><p>“Remember we support you, whatever you decide,” he added.</p><p>“What your uncle is saying-” her aunt interrupted. “I’m saying what I’m saying,” he argued. “-is that if you decide to bring her, she’d be welcome here.” She cut him off again. “We just want you to be happy, babygirl,” he added.</p><p>“Ok, alright, I’ll think about it.”</p><p>Dinah sighed as she hung up, then fidgeted with her phone before going back to the bedroom. She’d have some explaining to do. </p><p>She found Helena emptying a bag of popcorns in her mouth and watched her choke on a kernel. She coughed horribly to unlock it from her throat, then proceeded to stick a finger in her mouth to pop whatever was at the back of her teeth. </p><p><em> How am I finding this cute?  </em> Dinah asked herself, noticing a sweet warmth where there should have been repulsion. And right after:  <em> oh no. </em></p><p>“All good?” Helena asked, sucking her finger clean.</p><p>“You’re disgusting,” Dinah said as she sat back on the bed. She was smiling, so Helena concluded she didn’t mean it and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, it was my aunt and uncle.”</p><p>“Didn’t know you had family,” Helena said.</p><p>“I know, I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Why would you be sorry? That’s your business.”</p><p>“I don’t know, you’re my friend. It’s a weird thing to hide, I guess.”</p><p>“You were hiding it from me?”</p><p>Dinah bit her tongue. </p><p>“I thought it’d be sort of indelicate to bring it up. Cause you don’t have…” she trailed off.</p><p>“Living relatives?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Dinah dropped her head. There was really no need to mention it.</p><p>“It’s ok. I’m happy for you,” Helena garbled while pouring some Pop Rocks in her mouth. Dinah watched her scrunch her eyes as the candies fizzed in her mouth. </p><p>“I’m going to visit them next weekend.”</p><p>Helena gave her a thumbs up, eyes watering from too much candy popping. Her tongue felt like it’d been sandpapered.</p><p>“Do you want to come?”</p><p>Helena froze. In the silence, all they could hear was a faint fizzle coming out of her mouth. Dinah wondered if she would feel it on her tongue, had she kissed her right there and then.</p><p>
  <em> Stop it.  </em>
</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“My aunt wants to know who I hang out with. I think she’s worried I’m alone and something’s gonna happen to me. She keeps asking for a new emergency contact.”</p><p>“Um, ok,” Helena said after a thoughtful moment. </p><p>“Are you sure? It’s kind of a long ride, we’d be staying for the night.” </p><p>“Do you want me to come?”</p><p>“I… yes.”</p><p>“Let’s go then.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Third time's a charm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dinah patches up Helena after a fight and kinda regrets not having had sex.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ATTENTION PLEASE the rating of this fic is now explicit!<br/>There is SEX in this chapter. If it bothers you leave a message maybe I can send you a redacted version?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dinah was grateful Helena had been the responsible adult, she was. Sex wouldn’t have been a good idea. It would have been a terrible idea. It would only make things worse. Certainly more awkward. </p>
<p>But she couldn’t get out of her head that maybe Helena wanted it as much as she did. </p>
<p>Before the alcohol sent her mind into a full blackout, Dinah had seen the look on her eyes. She’d felt the way she kissed her back. Because she did kiss her back, there was no denying it. She had put a hand behind her neck, like that first time, and she’d moaned into her mouth, which Dinah felt more than heard. Helena shuddered when she ran her fingers on her arms, when she grabbed her ass. Dinah may not be the biggest expert on the market, but there was <em>chemistry</em>. </p>
<p>Three days later, the ghost of that encounter hadn’t left her skin. Her vibrator was charging, hidden in her drawer, having been called to arms after a long leave. It had marginally helped when the arousal got too much to handle, but it’d been pretty short-lived. It was frustrating, to say the least. </p>
<p>Now, Helena was in her kitchen with a long slit on her forearm and a split eyebrow at 3 in the morning and Dinah was supposed to keep it together and patch her up. It did not help that Helena always looked at her so intently because apparently she had a weird fascination with hands and loved watching people<em> do things</em>. </p>
<p>Dinah placed a large plaster on her arm and moved on to the eyebrow, patting it gently with a cotton pad. Helena growled at the touch.</p>
<p>“Don’t move,” Dinah muttered, making the mistake of looking into her eyes. Helena raised an eyebrow, huffing through her nose. Was the flash she saw in them it just pain? Or was that something else?</p>
<p>Dinah shuffled, cursing at the ache between her legs. That was not the moment. </p>
<p>“Are you ok?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Dinah said, definitely too quickly.</p>
<p>“You’ve been weird all week.”</p>
<p>“It’s none of your business.”</p>
<p>Helena flinched both at her words and the harsh pressure of her eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Sorry, it’s been… ” Dinah looked up and puffed her cheeks, “it’s nothing.”</p>
<p>“Ok.”</p>
<p>“It’s just… don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we didn’t fuck, ok? It was the right thing to do. Kudos to you. It’s been like three years and it was fine, I was fine, no big.” Helena squinted her eyes. “I said don’t move,” Dinah hissed, showing the suture needle.</p>
<p>“You seem nervous.”</p>
<p>“I’m frustrated,” Dinah admitted, trying to focus on the task at hand.</p>
<p>“Because of sex?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Helena, because of sex!” she snapped, then immediately regretted it. “Look, I’m normally pretty chill about it. I don’t need it, I don’t look for it. I only get… you know-”</p>
<p>“Horny?”</p>
<p>“...yes, when I’m into someone. And I’m rarely into someone. Don’t look at me like that, I know people think I sleep around.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that,” Helena said, a little offended, “and I didn’t think it. I’m just listening.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s been implied in the past,” Dinah resumed, more calmly, while skillfully stitching Helena’s skin. “Anyway, I’m just… waiting for these stupid feelings to go away so I can go back to <em> not </em> being horny.”</p>
<p>Helena remained silent for the rest of the procedure, fearing Dinah may stick the needle in her eye otherwise.</p>
<p>“Can’t you just, you know, take care of it yourself?” Helena said carefully once she was done.</p>
<p>“It’s not working,” Dinah mumbled, putting away the first aid kit.</p>
<p>“...would you like to have sex?” Helena tried again, after a thoughtful moment.</p>
<p>“What? No!” Dinah let out, her voice more high-pitched than she’d liked.</p>
<p>“I mean, you’re sober, you’re definitely not unattractive, you’re-”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to do this,” Dinah cut her off, “God, this is so embarrassing. I don’t need your charity. Come on, it’s not even fun if the other person is not into it.” </p>
<p>“But I <em>am</em> into it.”</p>
<p>Dinah’s head perked up, eyes wide in surprise.</p>
<p>“You’re very hot,” Helena explained.</p>
<p>Dinah didn’t know what to say in return. She opened her mouth and closed it again a couple of times, then just left the room to put the box she was holding in the bathroom. Helena jumped off the counter where she was sitting on and followed her.</p>
<p>“When I try to have sex with you, you push me away. When I refuse, you thank me. Just pointing out: I’m not the one who’s against it.”</p>
<p>Dinah washed her hands, rubbing harder than necessary. She dried them in silence, put the towel back on the rack. She leaned against the sink. She rubbed her fingers against her temple. Her body was screaming for it against her better judgement.</p>
<p>Helena took a step closer and Dinah tried to take a step back but found the sink behind her. The assassin raised her hands in surrender.</p>
<p>“It’s up to you.”</p>
<p>What was she supposed to do? Say no and live with both the heartbreak and the regret? The deal seemed pretty clear: it’d be just sex. Maybe it wasn’t the worst solution. </p>
<p>Dinah sighed, knowing perfectly well she was about to make a terrible decision. She grabbed Helena’s shirt and pulled her closer, almost as if she had no choice. </p>
<p>“Just be gentle, ok?” she said before she kissed her.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>As it turned out, Helena could do gentle. </p>
<p>“You ok?” Helena checked as Dinah laid the mattress and she slipped her hand that was helping her down from her back.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Dinah nodded, hoping the knot at the bottom of her stomach would loosen up a little.</p>
<p>“Anything you really like?” Helena asked.</p>
<p>Dinah frowned, giving Helena a look that meant<em> I’m not about to tell you that.  </em></p>
<p>“Worth a try,” Helena claimed with a shrug, “Just say yes, no, or fuck, ok? Yes if you like it, no if you don’t.” </p>
<p>Dinah let out a short laugh. “And what’s the fuck for?”</p>
<p>“It’ll come to you.” Helena gave a half-grin and Dinah rolled her eyes. There wasn’t anything remotely romantic about it, that much was clear. Better that way, Dinah thought, impressed at how well Helena could separate their friendship from… whatever was happening between them. </p>
<p>Helena pressed her lips right above her clavicle and flicked her tongue over the soft flesh just above, slowly moving up.</p>
<p>“...yes,” Dinah said, a little shyly. </p>
<p>Helena kissed her jaw, then took her earlobe between her lips.</p>
<p>“Mmh, no,” Dinah decided. Helena huffed in her ear as she let out a short laugh, which was mirrored by Dinah, then released her ear.</p>
<p>It was different from any other sexual encounter she’d had before, Dinah thought, but not uncomfortable. Quite the opposite: it felt exactly like having sex with your best friend. Helena snuck her hands under her top and moved them up without touching her skin. She carefully freed her from the garment and gave an appreciative look.</p>
<p>“What?” Dinah asked, feeling scrutinised.</p>
<p>“Nothing, you’re hot, I told you,” Helena said, “ah, you got a little scratch on your shoulder, we should take care of that later,” she added, carefully moving the strap of her bra over the small wound. </p>
<p>Still, Dinah realised, there was so much care in her touch, dare she say so much... love? She didn’t have time to ponder over it too much, because Helena made quick work of removing her bra and proceeded to softly run her lips where the underwire had been pressing. She stopped for a moment and lifted her eyes with a questioning look.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Dinah confirmed. Helena continued to her cleavage then down again to the other side, for the sake of symmetry. She traced an unbroken line up her chest, then inevitably took a nipple between her lips.</p>
<p>“<em> Yes,</em>” Dinah moaned, giving Helena permission to play with it. Dinah dropped her head back, enjoying the bites, the quick laps, the cold air on her wet skin. Helena hummed her approval, feeling goosebumps all over Dinah’s skin.</p>
<p>She lightly ran her fingers down her sides, earning a dry “no” followed by “tickles” as an explanation. Helena pressed her palms flat on her skin, which seemed to solve the issue.</p>
<p>She moved lower to open the belt buckle, the then button, and finally pulled down the zip.</p>
<p>“Is the light on ok?” she checked. </p>
<p>“That’s very thoughtful,” Dinah admitted, lifting her butt and pushing down pants and underwear all at once. “Yeah, it’s fine.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, these pants are tight,” Helena commented, pulling them off her legs.</p>
<p>“Need help to take yours off too?” Dinah teased, pointing out she was still fully dressed.</p>
<p>Helena stopped for a moment, as if she hadn’t quite planned on being naked herself. Dinah sat up and pulled her t-shirt over her head. “There,” she said, holding the neck of the t-shirt open so as not to disturb the fresh stitches on her eyebrow. Helena stood up to open the clip buckle holding her pants up and let them fall down her legs, then simply walked out of them and crawled back onto the bed. She lied next to Dinah, pulling her closer to press their bodies closer.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Dinah mumbled against her neck.</p>
<p>“I’m not doing anything,” Helena commented.</p>
<p>“Just this,” Dinah wrapped her arms around her and held her, “your skin feels really good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helena ran a hand down her back to briefly cup her butt, then down her thigh to guide her leg over her hip. She moved her hand back up and let a finger slip on her wet core, taking her by surprise. Dinah’s body jolted.</p>
<p>“Very disrespectful,” she commented after clearing her throat.</p>
<p>“Oops,” Helena replied with a cheeky grin that contradicted the sentiment. </p>
<p>She pushed Dinah on her back again and took her hand. She placed a small kiss on her palm, then another, then she dipped her tongue on the tender skin between her fingers, earning a surprised “Uh.” </p>
<p>“<em> Uh, yes</em> or…?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” Dinah admitted, “it’s very sensitive.”</p>
<p>“Ok, how about this?” She took her ring finger in her mouth and sucked gently. </p>
<p>“Oh <em>yes, </em>” Dinah let out, then covered her mouth, slightly embarrassed at how needy it’d come out. Helena kept working her fingers with her mouth one by one, dragging little moans out of her. The feeling of Helena’s mouth around her fingers was so overwhelming she barely noticed the hand running up her leg, the nails tracing patterns on her inner thigh, the fingertips stroking gently at her opening.</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck” </em> She let out when Helena pushed two fingers inside her.</p>
<p>“I told you it’d come to you,” Helena teased. Dinah slapped her arm, but immediately dropped her head back when Helena curled her fingers for the first time. “Sorry, that was unnecessary,” Helena whispered against her mouth. “Yeah,” Dinah wanted to say, but a moan came out instead. </p>
<p>By that point, she had already been driven to the edge. Helena felt her fingers easily slipping in and out, Dinah’s body shuddering with every gentle push. She deliberately slowed down as Dinah got closer and closer to her orgasm. There were fingers desperately clawing at her arms, hips thrusting against her hand, begging for more contact, more something, <em> anything </em>.</p>
<p>“Please,” Dinah implored, holding Helena’s head between her palms.</p>
<p>Helena bent down just enough so their noses touched, then finally ran a merciful thumb over her clit, soft and precise, with just enough pressure to tip her over the edge. When Dinah unravelled under her touch, she felt her breath in her mouth, her lips quivering, her teeth dragging on her skin, her hand in her hair, her legs clasping her wrist. She savoured every small shiver running through Dinah’s body and dragged her pleasure on and on, until she curled on one side, spent.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Dinah dreaded coming down from a high, and as highs go, orgasms are pretty short-lived. As she felt her breaths becoming even, her muscles finding their strength again, she feared reality would come crumbling down. Instead of the apocalypse, the only thing she felt was Helena brushing her fingertips on her arm. She opened her eyes and found her lying in front of her, a calm yet slightly unsure look on her face.</p>
<p>“Um, this is when I usually leave,” she admitted.</p>
<p>“Please don’t do that.” </p>
<p>“No, of course not. I just mean I don’t know what to do.”</p>
<p>Dinah hesitated for a moment. She felt calmer, yet strangely hollow, as if a great deal of energy had just abandoned her body and left a space that needed to be filled.</p>
<p>“Can you hold me?” </p>
<p>“Oh, sure,” Helena opened her arms and clumsily wrapped them around Dinah’s back, “I don’t know… mh, maybe like this…” she commented while trying to find the right position.</p>
<p>“Wait, just lie down,” Dinah said patiently. Once Helena had complied, she rested her head on her shoulder, shuffling until she was perfectly nestled in her arms.</p>
<p>“This is nice,” Helena noted, “Is this nice?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Dinah exhaled, holding tight onto her. The strange emptiness she had felt a moment earlier was slowly filled with a sense of peace, and she didn’t care that it was just an act. </p>
<p>“This is cool, right? We’re cool?” Helena checked again.</p>
<p>“Shh. Five minutes,” Dinah shushed her, “just pretend, ok?”</p>
<p>“Pretend... what?”</p>
<p>“Pretend you love me.”</p>
<p>Helena lied still under Dinah’s body, arms wrapped around her, holding her just like she asked. Something wasn’t feeling right, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The exhaustion from the night was catching up with them. Dinah was dozing off, she could feel her breath on her skin slowing down, the arm around her waist losing its grip. The alarm clock marked 4:15 am. Helena closed her eyes and let sleep come over her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Road trip!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Helena woke up to the smell of bacon and made a mental note to tell Dinah to close her bedroom door while cooking. She got dressed and checked her injuries, noticing her eyebrow had bled during the night. She dabbed a wet cotton pad on it, then ran a hand through her hair and decided a shower was in order after breakfast.</p><p>“Morning,” Dinah greeted her when she heard her coming into the kitchen. She didn’t turn, too busy flipping eggs in a pan. </p><p>“Is there some for me?” Helena asked, checking over her shoulder. </p><p>“Of course. I owe you one,” Dinah replied, “breakfast. I owe you breakfast. From Sunday.”</p><p>Helena nodded and poured herself a mug of coffee, blissfully unaware of the other woman’s awkwardness. On a regular day, Helena would be a morning person, but sleeping until late always made a little groggy. </p><p>“This vigilante stuff really messes up my sleep schedule,” she yawned, then popped a piece of crispy bacon in her mouth.</p><p>There was a part of Dinah that had hoped Helena would walk up to her, put her hands on her hips and kiss her neck while she’d finished cooking, and that part was feeling regrettably disappointed.</p><p><em> Since when do we have domestic fantasies? </em>she scolded herself, shaking her head. </p><p>“You ok?” Helena asked.</p><p>“Yeah. All good,” Dinah said while putting the eggs in the plates, the pan in the sink, the plates on the table. She took the orange juice from the fridge, picked some cutlery, grabbed her mug, all the while stubbornly avoiding making eye contact.</p><p>Helena wolfed down her eggs while Dinah nibbled at her plate. It was almost infuriating how she wasn’t even trying to be attractive. Dinah was always a little self-conscious around her. Helena, on the other hand, didn’t care one bit, and Dinah couldn’t help but think it was just another reminder Helena wasn’t in love with her. </p><p>“So, about last night…” Dinah started, unsure on how to continue. Helena lifted her eyes from her food but didn’t stop munching on it. </p><p>“I realised I didn’t-” Dinah cleared her throat and looked inside her mug, “-return the-” she looked at the ceiling “-favour,” she finally managed to string together.</p><p>“It’s cool, no worries,” Helena said casually, “next time.”</p><p>Dinah froze for a moment.</p><p>“Helena, there’s not gonna be a next time.”</p><p>“Oh.” Helena swallowed the food that was in her mouth. “Ok.”</p><p>“It’s just… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”</p><p>Helena just nodded. Her expression was neutral leaning towards surprise, much like a student who’d just realised they got the previous lesson completely wrong and just caught up.</p><p>“We should try to go back to normal,” Dinah added.</p><p>There was a long silence, and Dinah hated an awkward silence.</p><p>“It was good, just so you know. Very good.” </p><p>“Yeah, I could tell,” Helena finally said with a cocky little smile. Dinah buried her face in her palms and took a deep breath. “Why you gotta be like this?” she muttered, her whole face heating up. </p><p>“It was good for me too, by the way,” Helena decided to say after enjoying Dinah’s embarrassment for a gleeful moment, “may have been the only time I didn’t feel like shit after.” </p><p>“A glowing review,” Dinah mumbled.</p><p>“Well, maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but it’s good not to feel like a chewing gum that’s been used and spat out. It was nice. And I enjoyed the cuddles.”</p><p>Dinah peeked between her fingers, her eyebrow raised in surprise. She wondered if it’d be at all reasonable to tell her they could cuddle anytime she wanted. That was a thing friends did, right? She didn’t have time to find a way to say it, because Helena stood up to load the dishwasher and said: “I gotta be somewhere this afternoon, what time are we meeting tomorrow?”</p><p>Part of Dinah had hoped, against her better judgement, that they would spend the day together, but she quickly realised there was no reason to think that. They hadn’t made plans and it was only reasonable Helena had stuff to do.</p><p>“It’s a four hours drive to my aunt’s place... I can pick you up at 8 am, we can be there by lunch.”</p><p>Well, Dinah thought, they’d have the whole weekend to spend together.</p><p>---</p><p>“...so he gets so mad, he screams and he’s about to slam his head against the wall. And that’s when I realised my uncle’s a goddamn clown, cause he stops, picks up some pool noodles, holds them against the wall and <em>then </em>hits his head against them.”</p><p>Dinah laughed as the car speeded down the highway. </p><p>“So what I’m hearing is your uncle’s a drama queen.”</p><p>“He’s <em>the</em> drama queen,” Helena corrected her. “Hey, I’m always the one telling you stories. Why don’t you tell me one?”</p><p>“I don’t know, I don’t have many.”</p><p>“Come on, make an effort. We have three more hours to go.”</p><p>Helena was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses, arm out of the window of Dinah’s convertible, enjoying the wind in her hair. </p><p>“How cool do you feel, cowboy?” Dinah teased.</p><p>“Extremely cool,” Helena replied. She popped a chewing in her mouth and emphatically started chomping on it. “Come on, I want my story.”</p><p>“Alright, so… um. When I was fifteen, a friend of mine convinced me to join his band. There was this girl, Kiara, she had pink locs and played the drums. I thought she was the coolest person I’d ever met. We got really close, started hanging out all the time. Then one day she told me she’d got a boyfriend, that they’d been dating for a few weeks and... I lost it. I was so mad she didn’t tell me earlier. Why was she keeping secrets from me? I told her what a shitty friend she was… needless to say, we stopped hanging out. Shortly after my mom died and I moved to my aunt’s place for a while, so we completely lost touch. Took me five years to realise I had a crush on her.”</p><p>“Ooooooh, you were jealous!” Helena teased.</p><p>“I was <em>so </em>jealous. But I didn’t know what was going on, I’d never had a crush before, I sure wasn’t expecting to get one on a girl.”</p><p>“So what happened that made you realise?”</p><p>“I fell in love with Oliver, my ex-boyfriend. I was like: wait, I felt this way before!”</p><p>“Um.” Helena picked at the skin of her lips and watched the fields passing by for a while. “How’s it like?”</p><p>“How’s what?”</p><p>“Having a boyfriend. Why do people even get into relationships? All I hear is how much they suck.”</p><p>“It doesn’t always suck, you’ve just been hanging out with Harley and Montoya.”</p><p>“Alright, sell it to me.”</p><p>“Sell it?”</p><p>“Start with the basics. What do people even do when they are in a relationship?”</p><p>Dinah puffed emphatically while giving it some thought.</p><p>“Uuuh… they spend a lot of time together? Talk… make plans… go to places...” Dinah pulled a face, visibly displeased with her own explanation. “I guess the best part is knowing there’s someone who’s always there for you. Someone you can count on when you’re having a hard time.</p><p>“So like us?” Helena asked without a hint of sarcasm.</p><p>“I mean, there’s sex...” Helena gave her a look and Dinah found herself saying: “We had sex <em>once </em>!”</p><p>The assassin chuckled lightly but let it go.</p><p>“Well, a big part of it is being in love, isn’t it?” Dinah added reluctantly, as if she had tried to avoid admitting it. Helena’s smug grin faded slowly as she pondered over her words.</p><p>“How does that feel?” she asked.</p><p>Dinah rolled her eyes, patiently. Helena’s earnest curiosity felt almost indelicate, but she couldn’t quite blame her for it. She took a deep breath and searched for an answer. It was harder than she’d thought. She was tempted to say “you just know”, but that had turned out to be quite inaccurate in her experience. </p><p>“I asked Montoya and Harley and their explanation didn’t help at all,” Helena commented.</p><p>“What did Renee say?” </p><p>“<em>Imagine someone punches you and all you can do is say thank you. That’s what it's like.</em>” Helena said in her best Montoya impression, which wasn’t very good.</p><p>Dinah shook her head, only marginally surprised. “And Harley?”</p><p>“She said, and I quote:<em>‘it’s a seed of beautiful violence blossoming into your heart </em>’. What does that even mean?”</p><p>“I know, she’s been speaking like that since she started dating Ivy…” </p><p>“Well, so far it doesn’t sound like being in love is particularly nice.”</p><p>“That’s not true, they’re just… they’re not exactly experts on healthy relationships, are they? Montoya can’t get over her ex and Harley has dated a literal abuser for years.”</p><p>“So, what’s your take?” Helena asked again.</p><p>“It’s like… a pull, an attraction towards someone. A feeling of loss when they’re not around. Sometimes you feel nervous around them, you want to be as physically and emotionally close to them as possible. Suddenly their opinion becomes more important than anyone else’s. It’s almost as if they were a part of your life that was missing and you hadn’t realised until they came into it, so you don’t want to let them go. And because of that, you make compromises. You change. Until you change so much you barely recognise yourself, and one day you wonder how the hell did you let yourself get so lost into them...”</p><p>Helena blinked twice, taken aback by Dinah’s words.</p><p>“So it is violent,” she concluded.</p><p>“Sometimes.” </p><p>“Is that... how you feel about me?” Helena asked, feeling a little guilty.</p><p>Dinah thought about it for a moment.</p><p>“No. Not at all. I mean yes, some of it. The pull is there, the need to be close, that stupid... happiness when you’re around.” Dinah was thankful she had to keep her eyes on the road, because that conversation had her stomach in knots. “You never asked me to change anything, though. I can just be myself with you. That’s why it’s so hard to…” Dinah trailed off, her hand held the steering wheel a little tighter.</p><p>“To what?”</p><p>“To get over you.” </p><p>Helena could barely hear her words over the humming of the engine, but she could tell Dinah was getting sad by the way she was biting the inside of her lower lip. </p><p>"Hey, have I ever told you about that time my uncle broke his jaw? They wired it shut for a whole month, so they pulled out his front teeth and stuck a straw in the hole so he could eat. Quietest four weeks of my life.”</p><p>Dinah huffed through her nose, her lips curled up a bit. She was grateful for the change of topic, noticing, not without some irritation, how Helena was so damn considerate all the time.</p><p>“Go on,” she said, and Helena told her stories for the rest of the trip.</p><p>---</p><p>“Sweetpea!” Aunt Josephine came to the door to greet them. She was wearing a pink apron over a floral dress. She engulfed Dinah in a full-body hug that, Helena counted, lasted thirteen seconds. “You lost weight! I can see your ribs, are you eating at all?”</p><p>“Hi, Auntie,” Dinah said, rolling her eyes as aunt Josephine squeezed her arm, unimpressed by its thinness.</p><p>“And you must be Helena.”</p><p>Helena offered a hand and stated: “Nice to meet you,” as she’d practised in front of her mirror the day before. Josephine gave her a firm handshake and a long, inquisitive look.</p><p>“Nice to meet you too, Helena. Come in.”</p><p>The house had a distinct countryside vibe to it, with solid wood furniture and family pictures on the wall. Helena stopped in the hallway when she saw a photo of a girl who couldn’t be older than five or six, smiling ear to ear to whoever was taking the picture. There was no doubt it was tiny Dinah. She hurried to catch up with the other two women and joined them in the kitchen, where Josephine was updating Dinah of the latest news in the neighbourhood.</p><p>“And that tall boy who lives down the road, your ex-boyfriend, what was his name?”</p><p>“Who? Ricky?” Dinah guessed.</p><p>“Ricky! He is getting married next month.”</p><p>“We dated for like a month, auntie,” Dinah protested.</p><p>“Back in those days, I couldn’t keep track of all the boys who’d show up at my house trying to take her out. She broke so many hearts,” she said to Helena, “Even those who managed to get a date - not many, mind you - never lasted very long.”</p><p>Helena gave her a tight-lipped smile and filed the information under “timeline of Dinah’s relationships” between unnoticed crush Kiara and long-term boyfriend Oliver. The two women kept chatting, Dinah submitting herself to the occasional cheek-squeeze, aunt Josephine probing for details of her job her niece couldn’t quite give. Helena stood a few feet away and kept herself busy by counting the decorated mugs lined up on a shelf. </p><p>“Yeah, so my landlord won’t come fix it and-” </p><p>Dinah was interrupted by a loud thump, followed by Helena yelling: “Who are you? What do you want?” </p><p>“Helena!” Dinah called out, seeing that she was holding a tall, burly man against the wall, arm pressed on his throat.</p><p>“What the hell is going on?” aunt Josephine asked in horror.</p><p>“He was trying to attack her!” Helena explained.</p><p>“Helena, let him go, he’s my uncle Rob,” Dinah pushed her away from him, almost scared at the fury in Helena’s eye, “Helena, please, calm down.”</p><p>Aunt Josephine was not amused. She hurried to check on her husband, who was trying to catch his breath. </p><p>“My bad,” he panted, apologetically raising a hand, “I tried to sneak up on Dinah like I used to do when she was little. Didn’t know you had a bodyguard this time,” he chuckled.</p><p>“She almost snapped your neck,” Josephine said, dryly, giving Helena an unforgiving look.</p><p>“Helena? What’s going on?” Dina asked, noticing how her breath was hitched and her fists balled up. Her jaw was shut close and her nostrils flared. Josephine was ready to give her a piece of her mind, but she also noticed Helena’s distress was far from normal.</p><p>“It’s ok, no hard feelings,” Robert announced with a good-natured smile.</p><p>Helena closed her eyes, trying to slow down her breaths. The room was silent. She could almost hear her own heart thumping in her chest.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I suffer from PTSD, I was involved in a mass shooting as a child.” She enunciated every word as if they were from a script. Josephine and Robert looked at each other, then at Dinah, with a hint of worry.</p><p>“Hey, let’s get you out of here for a minute,” Dinah proposed, taking her by the hand and guiding her to the yard through the backdoor. She turned to silently ask her uncles to wait for a few minutes, then led her to a bench.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Helena said after a long silence.</p><p>“It’s ok, they didn’t know. I didn’t know. I would have warned them.”</p><p>Helena nodded, still shaking. “The psychiatrist said it could happen, I just... wasn’t expecting… here…”</p><p>“Take your time, no need to rush,” Dinah said, noticing she was struggling to speak, “You’re seeing a psychiatrist?” </p><p>Helena nodded again. </p><p>“That’s great, Helena, I’m so proud of you.” Dinah squeezed her hand and held it until Helena gave her a shy smile.</p><p>“She said it gets worse before it gets better,” Helena explained once she felt calmer, “that working on my trauma may cause some... reactions.”</p><p>“Has it happened before?”</p><p>“No… I was just… I had my guard down.”</p><p>Aunt Josephine came out to find her niece kneeling in front of a woman who’d just attacked her husband. To say that she had mixed feelings about the situation would have been an understatement. </p><p>“Ma’am, I am very sorry,” Helena said, springing up from her seat.</p><p>“Here, have some water,” Aunt Josephine said, offering her a glass. “Why don’t you show her the guest room, Dinah? Go put your stuff down, then we’ll have lunch.”</p><p>---</p><p>During lunch, Helena sat in silence and let Dinah do the talking. </p><p>“And then I said: you look good in any dress, my love,” Rob said, punctuating his sentence with a wink. Josephine jokingly slapped his arms and Dinah laughed wholeheartedly. “It’s the truth!” he insisted, adoringly looking at his wife.</p><p>“You guys are sickening,” Dinah joked while they gave each other a peck on the lips.</p><p>Helena sent some curious glances their way, but was too mortified to take part in the conversation. Rob tried to involve her a couple of times, but she could only string together a few words. After dessert, she stood up and offered to clean up the table and do the washing up. </p><p>“I’ll help you,” Dinah said. She stood up and grabbed a few plates, escorting Helena to the kitchen. “Whoever installed the tap messed up, the hot water is on this side,” she explained, turning the handle towards the side marked with a blue dot.</p><p>“Got it,” Helena breathed out, “you should spend time with your family.”</p><p>Dinah considered trying to convince her to join them, but decided to just squeeze her shoulder and give her some space.</p><p>“So. Helena, uh?” Aunt Josephine whispered when Dinah sat next to her, finally getting to the topic she really wanted to talk about. “I have to say, she’s not what I expected. She looks kinda dangerous.”</p><p>“She’s not dangerous,” Dinah lied. Well, not dangerous to her, anyway. “She’s protective.”</p><p>“Mh-mh. So you two<em> are</em> dating then.”</p><p>“No, we’re friends,” Dinah said patiently.</p><p>“But...?”</p><p>Dinah tapped her fingers around the mug she was holding, trying to evade her aunt’s inquisitive gaze. There was no point in hiding: Aunt Josephine knew. She was just giving Dinah the chance to come clean, which she did with a single frustrated nod.</p><p>“Did you tell her?” Josephine knew her niece and was ready to bet she hadn’t brought herself to confess, so she was more than a little surprised when Dinah let out a tired: “yeah.”</p><p>“Oh honey, I’m sorry, I really thought… it’s been so long since I saw you this happy, I could have sworn you had finally found someone.”</p><p>Dinah turned that thought in her mind, looking back at the past year and how things had changed.</p><p>“I am happy,” she said as she realised it, “after Oliver, I was in a really bad place. Hated my job, was living paycheck to paycheck, neglected all my friendships… Things are good now. I found some balance, I have people who care for me. And Helena, she… she’s a big part of it.”</p><p>Josephine took her hand and gave her a motherly smile, not even trying to hide how hearing that made her tear up a little. Dina gave her a warning look that meant: “Don’t make me cry,” so Josephine tried to shake off the sweet heaviness of that moment. </p><p>“What’s so special about her, anyway?” </p><p>Dinah thought about Helena’s ridiculous angry bursts, her clueless comments, and all the stories she’d told her, then simply said: “You’re not gonna believe this, but... she makes me laugh.”</p><p>Aunt Josephine glanced at the tall, broody woman who had almost choked her husband to death and was now silently washing dishes in her kitchen.</p><p>“That one?”</p><p>“That one,” Dinah sighed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey folks, I feel like this fandom is getting smaller and smaller so I just wanted to thank those of you who are still following the story and always leave a comment! You keep me motivated to continue :D I hope you'll stay with me until the end! &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Mechanisms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Helena wasn’t used to being in a stranger’s house without scanning her surroundings in search for clues or advantage points, and had to remind herself she wasn’t there to murder anyone. She finished washing up, an activity that had kept her mind busy just enough to stay focussed and alert at the same time. Which, she had decided, was necessary to avoid another overreaction to a simple prank. When she’d rinsed the last glass and placed the last fork in the drying rack, Helena found herself with attention to spare. She quickly glanced at the living room, where Dinah was engrossed in a deep conversation with her aunt. She didn’t dare interrupt.</p><p>She looked outside the window, into the backyard, and found Robert scratching his head. In front of him, a wheelbarrow full of gardening tools. He looked up and decided it was too hot to get to work in the garden, so he pushed the wheelbarrow behind a large shed. Inside that shed, Helena spotted something familiar.</p><p>She ventured into the backyard, careful to close the netted panel behind her, and made a beeline for it. She had been right. In a corner, peeking behind a heavy, burgundy sheet, was the orange mudguard of an old motorbike. The paint was flaking around dark, rusty patches. The round headlight was smeared in grease, its chrome dulled by a dusty film. She squatted to inspect the tire, the speckled spokes. She almost ran a finger over the tire.</p><p>She heard Robert’s footsteps even before he carefully cleared his throat while standing a few feet behind her. It was clear he was trying to warn her of his presence to avoid startling her again. She stood back up and apologised again, eyes locked on the ground.</p><p>“Once again, I’m very sorry about what happened earlier.”</p><p>He shifted his weight on one leg. He was a tall man, well built, and he could look almost threatening had his eyes not been the kindest Helena had ever seen. He took a careful step forward and, of all things he could have said, he settled for: “1947 Indian Chief.”</p><p>She smiled to herself and repeated, “1947,” as to confirm an initial hunch.</p><p>“Bought it off an old man for five grand. A real bargain.”</p><p>Helena widened her eyes, her attention piqued.</p><p>“Five-thousand? That’s nothing.”</p><p>He hesitantly stepped forward, asking for permission with his eyes, and Helena knew he was not afraid but considerate. He pulled the sheet off the bike and revealed the tattered saddle, the broken taillight, the scraped, unreadable license plate. The handlebar had lost one of the grips, but the motorbike was in otherwise astoundingly good conditions. The heavy, black frame showed no dents, the chain was intact, it still had its original tank lids. She lowered herself again to read the serial numbers, and found the engine and the frame matched. </p><p>“The exhaust pipe and the alternator are new. Well, from the 80s,” he explained.</p><p>“Did you ride her?” she asked, fingers hovering over the tank where the paint was breaking like desert soil.</p><p>“Only once, when I got it a year ago. I had to,” he admitted, “I’ve been planning to fix it up but I haven’t found the time.” </p><p>“It’s beautiful,” Helena said, standing back up.</p><p>“One day,” he said wistfully, carefully throwing the sheet back on it. She knew he meant that one day he will bring the bike back to its original glory and ride it again. </p><p>“You and your wife,” Helena said, then, with the sudden impulse of a curious kid. She paused, unsure if carrying on would be advisable, but Robert’s eyes were welcoming and warm, so she did. “You seem happy.”</p><p>He smiled proudly.</p><p>“I’d like to think we are,” he replied. “Of course we’re especially happy when our niece comes over. We have no kids of our own, you see.”</p><p>Helena frowned like a toddler trying to piece together a simple puzzle.</p><p>“You look surprised,” he added.</p><p>“I haven’t seen many happy couples, that’s it,” she explained. </p><p>“Well, I’ve been in some… unhappy arrangements myself,” he admitted. “See, Jo is not my first wife, nor am I her first husband. When you’re young, you mistake a lot of things for love.”</p><p>“I don’t follow,” Helena said. And truly, she couldn’t. She had no idea what he was talking about.</p><p>He sighed and rested his meaty hands on his hips, trying to find the right words to explain himself.</p><p>“Let’s see if I can make some sense,” he started. “A lot of people get together because of a… spark. Something that draws them to another person. You see someone and bam! It hits you. You know what I mean?”</p><p>Helena nodded slowly, while absolutely not knowing what he meant.</p><p>“And sometimes, this other person feels the same. Oh, what a miracle that is! Exhilarating, isn’t it? It feels like you just fit together, that you’re meant for each other. Everything they do seems to confirm just how perfect they are. It’s exciting and passionate and intense. Then, the infatuation wears off and you’re left with who they really are. And no one is perfect. Some people realise they got blindsides and part ways. Some people don’t want to admit it and they stick with that person. Maybe they’re too scared of being alone, maybe they want to cling on to those happy times, they don’t want to admit they’re over.”</p><p>“That only explains unhappy couples,” Helena argued, crossing her arms.</p><p>“Let me get there,” He smiled patiently, “I think most people, they just… they don’t know what they want. So when their partner somehow doesn’t live up to their expectations, they can’t tell what’s wrong. How can you leave someone when you can’t explain what’s missing? That just feels cruel, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“And?” Helena pressed.</p><p>“And they stay together, unfulfilled. They feel guilty for being unhappy when their partner hasn’t done anything wrong, not really. They start looking for what’s missing elsewhere. And that’s messy, ‘cause if you remember, they don’t know what that is. Oh, it’s a whole thing, child.”</p><p>Helena felt a sudden anger at that term of endearment, but Robert’s kindness was too disarming for her to fully embrace that rage.</p><p>“So the secret is to know what you want?” she scoffed, feeling a little disappointed. </p><p>“That’s just the first step. The second one is not settling for anything less than that.”</p><p>“Mh,” she let out. It all sounded irritatingly abstract. She almost turned on her heels and left, but she didn’t want to be rude to Dinah’s uncle. </p><p>He seemed to notice her annoyance.</p><p>“It’s an exercise in… imagination,” he said, opening his palms like a magician, “Take an average day - not the best! Just the average, this is important - spent with your person, and think: what if I had this day for the rest of my life?” </p><p>Before Helena could reply, he clapped his hands with cheerful satisfaction, glad he could find a satisfying conclusion to his explanation. It became apparent, then, that he had started his speech unsure on how to end it.</p><p>“Feel free to take a good look at her,” he added, pointing at the bike, “I hear you know what you’re doing when it comes to motorbikes.”</p><p>As he walked past her, she noticed how he raised a hand to pat her on the back then thought better of it, which she deeply appreciated.</p><p>---</p><p>Helena lifted the sheet again, tucking it over the saddle, and looked at the engine. Some spider webs were stretched between the two cylinders, a couple of leaves were hidden behind the chain. She carefully pushed the gear pedal up and down, feeling enough resistance to know it was still working. She pulled out the started pedal and watched the exposed teeth of the cog engage with the mechanism next to it, fitting perfectly. The engine was naked, beautifully exposed and nestled between the large, curved mudguards that gave the bike that classic mid-century look. Helena spent a good hour exploring every inch on the machine, which calmed her nerves much like meditation would have to another person. When she was done, she reverently pulled the burgundy fabric over it, and walked back to the house, feeling more grounded and almost cheerful.</p><p>Rob, sitting on a checkered armchair, smiled behind the newspaper he was reading as she walked into the living room. Dinah was sitting on the sofa with Josephine, and in front of them, countless photographs were scattered on the coffee table. Some had the distinct warm hue of the seventies, some were sharper, their saturated colours placing them in the mid-90s. </p><p>Dinah patted the cushion next her to invite Helena to sit.</p><p>“She looked much healthier when she used to live with us, don’t you think?” Josephine said, handing Helena a picture of teenage Dinah. It was clear that by healthier she meant chubbier. Helena took the picture from her hand and let out an amused “Oh” when she saw Dinah’s round face at age seventeen. She had a little too much makeup on and a quiet sadness about her smile. </p><p>“Why did I ever think blue eye shadow was a good idea?” Dinah asked no one.</p><p>“I’m more concerned about the blush,” Helena commented. Dinah bumped her shoulder against hers and smiled softly, happy to see she was well enough to tease her. </p><p>“This is my brother, Dinah’s dad,” Josephine pulled out a picture of a man holding a baby. He was wearing a brown knitted sweater on a white shirt, his smile white against his dark skin. “Have a look, I’ll make coffee,” she decided.</p><p>Helena flicked through the pictures, amazed at the sheer amount of them. There were even black and white ones. Out of all of them, she picked a family portrait where Dinah must have been four or five, happily held in her father’s arms, and on her mother the same familiar smile Helena knew so well. She must have spent longer than she’d realised staring at it because Dinah whispered a careful: “Hey, is this ok?” </p><p>Helena blinked once.</p><p>“Yeah, I just realised I have no photos of... anything, really. My family, my childhood… it’s all gone. And my uncles were more destroy-all-evidence kinda guys.”</p><p>She felt Dinah's hand on her knee, but the unmistakable noise of a camera shutter made them both flinch.</p><p>“Gotcha!” Robert said triumphantly. Helena looked at Dinah confused. It’s not like they were running away.</p><p>“It’s his little game. Every time I come over, he takes a picture of me on this sofa. The rule is that I should not notice until he’s done it.” She explained, patiently looking at her uncle’s gleeful face.</p><p>“This time was too easy,” he giggled, cranking the film lever. He pointed the camera at them again and snapped another picture.</p><p>“What was that for?”</p><p>“Just finishing the roll,” he explained, subsequently turning to his wife to take a few pictures of her. Then, he suddenly put the camera down in excitement, adding to Helena’s confusion. He walked up to the radio and turned the volume up. An old, slow tune filled the room.</p><p>“I love this song,” he said as he stretched an arm towards his wife and wiggled his eyebrows. She took his hand and let him drag her into his arms, then they started slow dancing in the living room.</p><p>---</p><p>Later that day, Helena lied in a foreign bed thinking about mechanisms. Motorbikes. Crossbows. Cameras. She found solace in things that perfectly fit together. The teeth of a cog digging into a bike chain. The trigger pushing against her finger before a shot. The liquid motion of a camera mirror, the synchronized<em> clack </em>of a shutter that made the whole thing possible.</p><p>The night had turned fresh and a light rain was tapping on her window. She went to the bathroom one last time and washed her hands without hurrying, knowing sleep wouldn’t come anytime soon. As she walked down the corridor, she noticed light filtering under the door of Dinah’s room. She knocked.</p><p>“Come in.” </p><p>The voice on the other side didn’t sound sleepy at all. Helena found Dinah lying on top of her sheets, a picture in her hand.</p><p>“Can’t sleep?” </p><p>The way Helena asked implied that she couldn’t either and Dinah shrugged sympathetically. Countryside life was slow and uneventful, and neither of them was used to the change of pace. Dinah scooted to one side of the bed and Helena sat next to her without needing any further invitation. </p><p>“Want me to tell you a story?” Helena proposed. Dinah smiled, then, but her lips were tight and hid a certain sadness Helena couldn’t quite grasp.</p><p>“No, I think… I think tonight I don’t want to be distracted.”</p><p>Helena raised her eyebrows and nodded. It was her way to say “I don’t understand, but I respect that,” which could have been the motto of their friendship. </p><p>“You know, I haven’t visited my uncles in over a year. After breaking up with Oliver, I really didn’t want to come. Seeing what a happy couple they were only reminded me that having what they have was possible, and I had failed.”</p><p>Helena listened in silence. For someone with such powerful vocal cords, Dinah was surprisingly quiet. It was rare she’d opened up like that, and it granted Helena’s full attention. </p><p>“I was putting too much pressure on my relationship. I thought if I could make that work, everything else will fall into place. Instead, everything fell apart. I relied on it so much that when it ended, there was nothing left. No friends. No career. No plan. I had changed so much of myself to make it work, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was lost for so long.”</p><p>Helena instinctively wrapped an arm around her and Dinah immediately rested her head on her shoulder. There was a calm detachment in her voice, as if it were a different life she was talking about. And in a way, it was.</p><p>“Uncle Rob and Aunt Josephine, on their wedding day,” she said, showing Helena the photo she was worrying between her fingers. “As far as I can remember, they’ve always been like that. I’d like to think my parents were the same, but who knows.”</p><p>Dinah sighed, turning that thought in her mind for a moment.</p><p>“After my father died, I watched my mom going through life by herself. I could see how lonely she was and sometimes it still scares me to think I’m on the same path. That I won’t find that person who'd dance with me in the living room just because my favourite song is on the radio. And I’ll be honest, for a moment I thought…” Dinah sighed, considering whether she should continue. She looked up from the photos and found Helena’s eyes, curious and careful. Encouraging. “I thought you’d be that person.” </p><p>Helena almost said something, but Dinah didn’t let her. </p><p>“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I just want you to know the past year has been the best in a while. Talking to Aunt Josephine today made me realise how happy having you around has made me, even if it’s been a bit messy between us lately. So… thank you.”</p><p>Helena rested her chin on Dinah’s head and ran the back of her fingers on her arm. That was a lot of information to take in for someone who knew very little about that sort of stuff, and the little she knew, as it turned out, was mostly wrong.</p><p>“I’ve never had a friend like you before,” Helena said, “Actually, I’ve never had a friend. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work.”</p><p>Dinah chuckled softly, pressing a cheek against Helena’s shoulder. </p><p>“You’re doing great,” she said, “and you know what? One day I’ll find that someone, then we can have a perfectly normal friendship.”</p><p>“Sure,” Helena said, in a way that revealed how unsure about the whole thing she was.</p><p>“Having you in my life is more important than having you as my girlfriend, is all I’m saying.”</p><p>“Cool, yeah, I... I definitely want to be in your life.” </p><p>Dinah put the photo on the nightstand, then wrapped herself around Helena. It was confusing how the source of her comfort and her heartbreak were one and the same, how trying to sort out her feelings only led her into falling deeper and deeper for her. It was like running in circles, and with each lap, her heart wore out a little. Against her better judgement, Dinah asked: “Will you stay with me tonight?” </p><p>And Helena did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys! Thank you for all the comments you left on the last chapter! I was feeling a little demotivated but you came in clutch :D :D :D It means a lot to me &lt;3</p><p>I think there's only one more chapter to go... stay with me! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. We got there eventually.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A diligent rooster crowed at exactly 6:30 am. Dinah woke up with her face pressed against the soft skin of Helena’s neck and regrettably noticed its scent had started to become familiar. </p>
<p>“Oh, wow,” Helena mumbled while stretching her back, “haven’t heard that in a while.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, same,” Dinah grumbled, turning to the other side and hiding her head beneath the pillow.</p>
<p>“What, you don’t like it?” </p>
<p>A muffled, grumpy “no” is all Helena heard and she wisely decided to leave it at that. She made her way downstairs and to the backyard, relieved to find both Aunt Josephine and Robert were still sleeping. The morning mist was already starting to lift and the air was turning pleasantly crisp. After doing a few stretches, she found a low branch that looked strong enough to hold her and started her morning workout with some pull-ups. </p>
<p>By the time Aunt Josephine showed up at the door to offer her some coffee, it was already past 8 am and she was drenched in sweat. She politely jogged back to the kitchen, still catching her breath, and accepted the hot mug with a shy smile. </p>
<p>“Thank you, Mrs Lance.”</p>
<p>Aunt Josephine was wearing a thick lavender robe and matching slippers. She hadn’t bothered with a wig yet, her head was wrapped in a dark brown net. She watched Helena take a careful sip, satisfied to notice the simple joy of a hot morning coffee in her face.</p>
<p>“So what’s your deal, young lady?” Aunt Josephine said, crossing her arms over the chest.</p>
<p>“Mh?” Helena froze. A sense of mild panic started building up in her stomach. How could she explain the insanely intense workout she’d just been through without mentioning the fact that she was a trained assassin? What would be a suitable explanation? Military? No, too many details she wouldn’t be able to provide. Maybe a personal trainer? Yeah, that could-</p>
<p>“With my niece,” Josephine added as she noticed Helena’s eyes moving quickly from side to side in confusion.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Helena said with a hint of relief, “we’re good friends.”</p>
<p>A small smile formed on her lips as she said it, glad she didn’t have to explain the whole vigilante thing. She brought the mug to her lips once more but stopped when she saw Aunt Josephine taking a step closer, eyes firmly locked on hers. </p>
<p>“Best friends?” she added, trying to answer the silent question in Aunt Josephine inquisitive stare.</p>
<p>“You’re not sure?”</p>
<p>“No, no, I am sure,” Helena said more confidently, “Dinah said it. Out loud. I’m her best friend. And of course, she’s mine, I don’t have a lot of- yeah, definitely best friends.” </p>
<p>Helena wasn’t easily intimidated, but she had to add this 5 foot nothing woman to the very short list of people who could make her feel that way.</p>
<p>After a thoughtful moment, Aunt Josephine took a deep breath, and with the stern “someone’s-gotta-do-it” expression, she said: “But you know you’re more than that for her, right?”</p>
<p>“Y-yeah, I mean, we talked about it. We took some time apart.”</p>
<p>“Apparently not enough.”</p>
<p>Helena’s shoulders dropped.</p>
<p>“Is that what she said?” she asked, disappointment creeping in her voice.</p>
<p>“No, she wouldn’t say that. She’s too stubborn.” Helena nodded sympathetically. “But it’s clear she’s not over you. And I can see why,” Aunt Josephine added, gesturing towards Helena’s body, muscles glistening after her workout. It made the assassin blush up to the tip of her ears. “But you’re holding a space meant for someone else.”</p>
<p>The comment came like a backhander. Helena’s head perked up, confused, but she couldn’t find a comeback fast enough.</p>
<p>“Dinah deserves someone who loves her back,” Aunt Josephine continued, “she deserves to be happy. And if you’re around, I don’t think she can.”</p>
<p>“I don’t… I didn’t know she was unhappy. Did she say she’s unhappy?” Helena’s voice cracked only a little, but enough for Aunt Josephine to soften her tone.</p>
<p>“She’s not unhappy, no, she’d just… don’t you want someone to spend your life with? Someone special, someone who’ll grow old with you?”</p>
<p>Helena frowned, trying to figure out where the speech was going.</p>
<p>“Well, Dinah wants that, and until you’re around she won’t be able to find that person. You two are too close.”</p>
<p>Helena squinted her eyes, clearly unable to make the connection that seemed so obvious to Aunt Josephine.</p>
<p>“You two act like girlfriends,” Aunt Josephine finally spelt out. “You spend all your time together, make plans, support each other, go to the damn farmer’s market on Saturday mornings - do I need to go on?”</p>
<p>“W-what’s wrong with that?”</p>
<p>“She has no space in her heart to let anyone else in. She has no time left to meet other people. You need to back off, you understand?”</p>
<p>Aunt Josephine’s voice wasn’t aggressive or harsh, but it hurt like a goddamn bitch. </p>
<p><em> One day I’ll find that person,  </em> Dinah had said.  <em> We’ll have a perfectly normal friendship. </em></p>
<p>Helena knew Aunt Josephine was right. </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Helena had looked awfully pensive during their trip back to Gotham and evasive for the rest of the week. She hadn’t shown up at any of Dinah’s gigs, which was unusual. She declined meeting up. Dinah was starting to think she had finally scared her off. </p>
<p>It was only the following Thursday morning that Helena had finally texted her to meet. Dinah felt a relief that was both euphoric and worrisome: after all, it had only been a week and a half. She should get used to spending time without her. It didn’t stop her from feeling jittery when the doorbell rang, and she almost sprinted to open the door. </p>
<p>Helena took a step in that felt slightly too wide, as if she was stepping over some sort of threshold. She greeted her with a familiar “hey” that did nothing to slow down Dinah’s heart. Dinah started to wonder when it will all finally pass. Feeling like a teenager in love and having to constantly pull the reins on her feelings was exhausting.</p>
<p>“Hey. Haven’t seen you in a while,” she couldn’t help saying.</p>
<p>“I have something for you,” Helena replied excitedly, ignoring her comment. She walked into the room with the determination of someone who has a plan. She made a beeline for the record player and opened the glass cover, then carefully slid a vinyl record from the bag, leaving the sleeve hidden inside it. The player crinkled and buzzed for a few seconds before a warm, almost smoky voice filled the room. The base followed a few beats later, a slow, syncopated rhythm Dinah knew all too well. </p>
<p>When Helena turned to look at her, Dinah immediately realised she must’ve looked beyond shocked, because the assassin let out the self-satisfied laugh of someone whose scheme fully succeeded. What was even more surprising is that Helena had stretched an arm and was inviting her to take her hand. Too stunned to argue, Dinah took it, and was immediately pulled closer into a stiff slow dance. Helena’s smugness faded immediately as she remembered she couldn’t dance, but it went completely over Dinah’s head. All she could think about was that Helena had managed to track down a copy of her mother’s first and only album.</p>
<p>“How… Where did you find it?” Dinah finally brought herself to ask, as they barely moved side to side. </p>
<p>“San Francisco.” </p>
<p>Dinah’s eyebrows shot up. </p>
<p>“You went to the other side of the country to get it?” </p>
<p>She wasn’t quite sure whether she was about to laugh or cry, so she let out a wheeze that could be both. Helena nodded, mouth proudly curling up on one side. Dinah swallowed whatever emotion was bubbling up and tried to keep it together.</p>
<p>“I want to hear the full story,” she demanded.</p>
<p>“Well, the day you broke the record I managed to briefly look at the cover and saw that the album was recorded in the Bay Area and only 200 copies were produced. I went to a couple of local collectors’ forums and asked if anyone had a copy. I was hoping to get it for your birthday, but it took three weeks just to get a lead.”</p>
<p>The music got fuller, more intense. Dinah held herself a little tighter around Helena’s neck. Helena continued her story.</p>
<p>“So I get an address and this guy…. He comes out wearing an open white linen shirt and peach hammer pants. He has fifteen necklaces and about a hundred bracelets. His belt is a beaded rosary. His beard is braided like that guy from that metal band…”</p>
<p>“System of a Down?”</p>
<p>“Yes! He’s wearing pink shades and bright blue nail varnish. His house is massive, there’s a stone pool in the middle of his living room and inside there are two naked men, just... chilling. He takes me to a room upstairs, the walls are covered in vinyl records. Floor to ceiling. He takes like… fifteen minutes to find the one I’m looking for, mumbling to himself the whole time. He finally pulls it out and says: tell me why you want this record and if I like your story I’ll give it to you for free.”</p>
<p>“<em>What </em>?”</p>
<p>“I’m telling you, a complete nutcase.”</p>
<p>“What did you tell him?” </p>
<p>They had found a comfortable rhythm and got a little closer. Helena cleared her throat the way she always did before imitating someone else’s voice. In this case, she pretended to be some sort of imaginary knight in a fairy tale.</p>
<p>“I said: Sir, the album I’m looking for was recorded by my girlfriend’s mother. She no longer has a copy and I intend to propose by offering a replacement. If you’d be so kind as to grant my wish, I shall be eternally grateful.”</p>
<p>Dinah burst into laughter.</p>
<p>“So you lied!”</p>
<p>Helena shrugged innocently, then suddenly stopped their gentle swinging.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t have to be a lie.”</p>
<p>For the second time, Dinah’s face fell. It was almost a slow-motion fall, puzzled and tired, as if she had been fighting for a long time and now the monster she thought destroyed had raised its head once again, undamaged. </p>
<p>“Don’t fuck with me,” she said. She sounded exhausted. </p>
<p>“I thought about what you said,” Helena said, suddenly serious. “About having someone to spend your life with. I can be that person. I want to be that person.”</p>
<p>Dinah rubbed her fingertips against her forehead, patiently, readying herself to explain something so obvious she barely had words for it.</p>
<p>“That’s not how it works, Helena, you can’t just pretend-”</p>
<p>“Stop- stop saying that.” Helena’s voice was low, but betrayed a pain Dinah wasn’t expecting. It made her wince. “Stop saying I’m pretending. I do love you. It’s not my fault it’s not the kind of love you want.” </p>
<p>Helena spoke plainly and steadily, but it hit Dinah like a ton of brick. Helena lifted the cartridge off the record player with a finger and pulled it towards her, letting the machine do the rest. The music stopped. </p>
<p>“This thing we have? I don’t know how to call it, but I don’t want to lose it. One day you’re going to find someone to spend your life with, and you know who’s going to end up alone, at the end of it? Me. That person will be the most important thing in your life, while you’ll still be mine.” </p>
<p>The shock of those words left Dinah speechless.</p>
<p>“What we do, the amount of time we spend together,” Helena continued, “the way we care and protect and comfort each other… turns out, that’s what girlfriends do. That’s what we are, aren’t we? But what I keep hearing is that I’m just a placeholder for someone you haven’t met yet. It kinda sucks<em> .” </em></p>
<p>Dinah had thought herself unlucky. She’d fallen for someone who didn’t quite understand that type of love. How beautifully tragic it was. But she could always start over, reset those feelings and find another person to grow old with. She thought Helena’s lack of understanding of all things romantic meant she wanted - deserved, even - loneliness. She even got angry at her for a while, even though she knew it was wrong and unjustified. </p>
<p>Most importantly, she’d made it abundantly clear she thought Helena’s a second rate love. </p>
<p>Dinah lost track of how long the silence between them had lasted, but when Helena spun around her heels and quietly headed for the door, all she knew was that she had to stop her.</p>
<p>“Wait!” Dinah blurted out before she even knew with what she’d follow up. Helena stopped, but didn’t turn.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Dinah said, “I just- I’ve always thought I’d fall in love with someone who would… you know, woe me. I pictured meeting in a bar, being asked for my number, flowers, dates - I wanted the whole courtship ritual. Someone who would sweep me off my feet with some great gesture, who’d wax poetically about how I put the stars in the sky or something. Someone who leaves corny messages around the house and lies about how beautiful I am when I look like shit.”</p>
<p>As a testament to how perplexed she felt, Helena raised an eyebrow even though Dinah couldn’t see it. </p>
<p>“But then… are you sure it’s me you’re in love with?” she asked.</p>
<p>It was so plain and simple, Dinah almost faltered. Boiled down to its core, that was all there was. She’d fallen for a person yet somehow was expecting her to be someone different. Would she even like Helena if she’s turned into a cheesy rom-com lead type? The answer came loud and clear. A booming, definitive <em>no.  </em></p>
<p>And maybe they had accidentally missed on the passionate infatuation of young love, she thought, skipping right ahead to the comfort of a solid partnership, but that’s what Dinah had always wanted. And that’s what she already had and didn’t realise. She took a few steps until she could wrap her arms around Helena’s stomach, pressing herself against her back.</p>
<p>“Actually, I… I’ve never been more sure.”</p>
<p>Helena raised her arms then dropped them back, like a child who’d been given contradicting orders. Dinah smiled at that anticlimactic frustration that was fully, completely Helena. A gesture that meant: will you<em> please </em>make up your mind?</p>
<p>“Just so we’re clear, you’re basically asking me to marry you, right?” Dinah checked.</p>
<p>“I mean, theoretically, I guess,<em>”  </em>Helena replied, not quite having reached the same conclusion. But then again, she did say she wanted to spend the rest of her life at her side. “We’ve only been dating for a year though.”</p>
<p>Dinah chuckled, pressing her face against Helena’s back, letting her laughter ripple through the fabric and onto her skin. </p>
<p>“I need to tell you something,” Dinah said somewhat solemnly.</p>
<p>“Go on.”</p>
<p>Dinah took a deep breath.</p>
<p>“I love you.”</p>
<p>Helena finally turned, still wrapped into Dinah’s arms, a frown knitting her eyebrows together.</p>
<p>“Isn’t that the whole point of this conversation?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say you needed to hear it,” Dinah explained, “I said I needed to tell you.”<br/>“And I will need to tell you again, and again, and again. I’ll need to kiss you and touch you and hold your hand and snuggle up against you in bed. I’ll need you to tell me that you want to be with me when I feel insecure about it. Is that ok?”</p>
<p>“Sounds good,” Helena confirmed, already accustomed to Dinah physical touch, which she didn’t mind one bit. Dinah finally let herself smile and pulled Helena closer, resting her head on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“So... what happens now?” Helena asked.</p>
<p>Dinah cocked an eyebrow and thought about it for a moment, then simply said: “Well, I guess... almost nothing changes.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm posting a short epilogue too! Coming right up :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Where should I put this?” Montoya yelled as soon as she entered the apartment. Unsurprisingly, she had picked the heaviest box in the van, probably just out of spite. Dinah emerged from the kitchen in a denim overall where some bleach had left some discoloured patches, hair held together by a red bandana.</p><p>“Those are my books, you can leave them in the corner over there,” she said and pointed to a space they had cleared up. Half of the furniture had already been delivered and was crammed in the living room while they were still finishing cleaning. </p><p>“With all the money Huntress has you could have found a furnished place.”</p><p>“Nah, it’s part of the process,” Dinah replied, “It’s fun!”</p><p>“If you say so,” Montoya scoffed and made her way out again, while Cass dragged in a few bags of clothing.</p><p>“Where’s Harley?” Dinah asked. Cass just shrugged and handed her a small package instead. </p><p>“Delivery guy just dropped this.”</p><p>Dinah frowned, suspicious. Not many people knew their new address and most of them were right there, helping them move. </p><p>“That’s weird,” Dinah mumbled to herself.</p><p>“Hey, kid, fridge is stocked up with strawberry milk, help yourself,” Helena said as she walked in, pointing to the kitchen, “what’s up, babe?” she then asked Dinah, resting her chin on her shoulder to check out the package she was holding.</p><p>“I’m not sure,” she admitted, turning the box in her hands. Her frown disappeared when she saw the return address. “Oh, it’s from my uncles!” </p><p>She picked a loose bolt Helena had left on top of the armchair and tore the tape with its tip. She hurriedly opened the box and found a framed photo. It was a picture of them sitting on a sofa, in the warm afternoon light. Helena had a vaguely sad smile and Dinah looked a little concerned, her hand placed on Helena’s knee. It was quite amazing how Robert had managed to capture them in such an intimate moment.</p><p>She carefully placed the photograph on the first available surface she found and reached into the box to find an envelope containing a letter and a few more pictures he had snapped that day. She started reading the letter out loud.</p><p><em> “Dear Dinah, We are so happy for you!  </em> Oh, they’re so sweet, <em>Congratulations on the big move, we can’t wait to come to visit. Actually, your aunt is asking me to add that she will come but she will complain the whole time because she hates Gotham. </em>That sounds about right.<em> Best wishes for your new adventure. We love you very much!  </em> They’re so cute… and the next bit is for you, should I read it?”</p><p>“Oh,” Helena let out, surprised, “Sure.”</p><p>“Alright. <em>Dear Helena, you said you don’t have any family picture, so I hope this will be the first of many. The gift in the box is for you. Welcome to our family, Uncle Robert and Aunt Josephine.” </em></p><p>Dinah looked up and found Helena quietly staring at the letter, lips parted in surprise.</p><p>“Welcome to the family,” Dinah repeated, placing a soft kiss on her lips. </p><p>Helena tried to reply, but the words got stuck in her throat, so she just nodded and tried to hide the fact her eyes were a little wet.</p><p>“Are you getting a little teary-eyed, Killer?” Dinah teased.</p><p>“No!” Helena scoffed, unconvincingly, and took the package from Dinah's hands, shaking it till a small box slid out of it. She eagerly tore the wrapping paper to find a Polaroid camera and a few boxes of film. That did it. Tears started streaming down her cheeks, to Dinah’s amusement.</p><p>“Oh no! Don’t cry babe, it’s ok,” Dinah cooed jokingly, taking her face in her palms and wiping away the tears with her thumbs. “It’s ok, we’re all tired.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Helena mumbled grumpily, but she made no effort to free herself from Dinah’s gentle hold. </p><p>“What’s going on here?” Montoya scoffed behind the three boxes she was holding.</p><p>“Nothing!” Helena pulled away and turned to hide her face, while Dinah mouthed <em>she’s getting emotional. </em>Montoya rolled her eyes and unceremoniously dropped the boxes.</p><p>“These are the last ones,” she said, mercifully changing the topic.</p><p>“Thank God,” Dinah let out, “I’m exhausted.”</p><p>With that, she plopped onto the sofa.</p><p>“Yeah, me too. I’m too old for this shit, ” Montoya echoed, and sat right next to her. Dinah reached for Helena’s hand and pulled her so she could sit on her other side, and Cass quickly joined them, sitting on the floor, slurping on strawberry milk.</p><p>They all exhaled in unison.</p><p>“You guys hungry?” Dinah asked.</p><p>“I’m starving!” Cass replied. Helena and Montoya made some vague confirmatory noises.</p><p>“Fuck, the pots and the dishes are at the bottom of the pile,” Helena noticed, pointing to a box marked<em> kitchen</em>.</p><p>“Fridge is empty, anyway,” Dinah sighed, earning a choir of groans from the others.</p><p>“Ladies!” a shrieking voice shook the room “How are we doing?”</p><p>“Where the fuck have you been, Harley?” Montoya blurted out, but couldn’t find the energy to stand up to look menacing enough.</p><p>“Alright, maybe I should take these pizzas away then.”</p><p>“No!” they all screamed, jerking up from the sofa.</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” she said as she theatrically distributed pizzas around. “Pepperoni for Cass, margherita for Huntress, vegetarian for Canary, four-cheese for Montoya. Hope your freezer’s on, I got ice cream!”</p><p>“I love you,” Dinah whispered, more to her pizza than to Harley.</p><p>Harley tucked the ice cream in the freezer and grabbed a few cold beers, then joined the others for dinner. She sat next to Cass and offered her a can that Montoya promptly snatched from her hands. They ate in silence, and for a while a few moans of pleasure and the hiss of a beer can being open were the only sounds in the room. Then, out of nowhere, a dry <em>click </em>followed by a muffled whirr grabbed their attention.</p><p>“Whatcha doin’, killer?” Harley asked with a full mouth, noticing she was now standing.</p><p>Helena pulled the small photograph from the camera she was holding and said: “Family picture.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is it, guys! I had a lot of fun writing this story, I hope you enjoyed it :) please leave one last comment and let me know what you think!</p><p>I'm quite proud of myself for plotting the whole story before I started posting and for maintaining a regular schedule on the updates, I feel like I've been slowly growing as a writer... thank you for coming along for the ride &lt;3</p><p>You can also scream in my inbox at das-gay.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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